Of bounty hunters and empires
by dharak
Summary: When a group of teens discover a dangerous link between the Teresal bounty hunters and the Cyclonian Empire that revolves around a artifact trade, they resolve to sever it. After a failed attempt to convince the Deltoran Sky Knight Council of the danger and short on time, the unpracticed squadron decides to take on the mission themselves. Feedback welcome :)
1. Mornings on the Strikeflier

**Disclaimer : I do not own Storm Hawks, Deltora, or any names or references from Bionicle. **

_**BEFORE you read this fic, there are some things you need to know ahead of time. This story won't be happening on Atmos, but rather on Deltora. In this world, there are eight continents, and Atmos is one of them. Atmos is still as the creators imagined it and the show shows it. **_

_I have also made up a few new races. It would be best to read the text below:_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

_**Now you may move on to the story. **_

Light streamed in through beaten metal slats into the room, one of the five bedrooms on the small carrier ship. It was a genuine mess, clothes everywhere, coupled with scattered and rumpled posters that had slipped their tacks. The owner of the room was up, hurriedly shifting through his pile of clothes in nothing but pajama pants. Light blue eyes filled with a innocent excitement flicked about, while the male Blizzarian sniffed at a shirt to see if it was clean. Discovering it was, he wriggled into it. The white cloth stood out against earthy brown fur, and the blizzarian teen didn't hesitate to slip on his usual brown leather jacket. After finding a suitable pair of gray trousers, Lehvahk put them on and then headed for his mirror. Forgetting to watch his footing momentarily, he tripped over a spare belt and rolled to the floor.

"Crap," he muttered, but Lehavhk remained unfazed, his good mood undamaged. Hurriedly he got up, swept his dark brown hair into a desirable state, then ran out the green plated sliding door.

The hallway was dimly lit from the old lights, and the walls were marred with rust, brown water stains and dents. Rails ran along the walls at waist height, broken by only four doors, one leading to the kitchen, the others to bedrooms. A final door led to the ship's bridge.

The Strikeflier was a small ship only consisting of two levels, contained in a narrow main body supported between two pontoons. The carrier's plating was lacerated with scars, running down and across everything-the pontoons, the roof, the impellers. Sheets of new metal plating had been smelted and bolted across more damaged areas. The painted red designs and wolf head on the left pontoon helped take eyes away from the ancient carrier's appearance flaws, but didn't completely hide them. The tips of the pontoons were a brown red color very close to dried blood.

It was down the hall and into the kitchen for Lehvahk. He burst into the kitchen in a bright display of enthusiasm, bounding over to the refrigerator. In the process he managed to accidentally brush one of his friend's backs, whom was sitting at the small table.

Or maybe, 'friend' was too strong a word to use when it came to the ties between Lehvahk and Takar. The blue furred kerion instantly tensed when he felt the contact, his bad temper flaring.

"Don't touch me," he growled out, peering at Lehvahk past his shoulder length hair. It was dark brown and scraggly, clearly showing the lack of regard Takar put into it. The look in his red eyes was sour and moody. Although sitting, it could be seen that he was fairly tall, more so than anyone else on the ship. He wore a t-shirt under a long black trench coat, black pants, and large brown boots. The ill-tempered kerion wore fingerless gray gloves on both hands. His left ear was pierced with two silver rings, delicate looking inch long chains hanging from each. "Why the hell are you full of even more enthusiasm than usual, anyway?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious?"

Takar raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. "Not to me."

"That's right," Lehvahk snorted, popping toast into a old beaten up toaster. "Because you can't see the joy in anything, for the god's sakes."

This prompted a growl from the pilot. Gripping the back of the chair in one hand, he stood up and menacingly loomed over Lehvahk. Knowing that Takar wouldn't hesitate to physically punish him, Lehvahk yelped and cringed against the counter, while frantically thinking of a way to escape the predicament.

As it turned out, he received the hoped for salvation. Before Takar could bring his raised fist down, the kitchen door slid open and a slimmer green scaled hand had grabbed his wrist.

"Hold it!"

The tone of the voice was sharp and commanding. Although Takar could have wrenched his arm free after some twisting, he didn't move. Lehvahk took the chance to inch slowly to the left, then flee the room.

With his original target out of sight for the time being, Takar turned his glare on the interfering varon who held his wrist. Fearon met his furious red eyes with clam yellow ones, even though he had to tilt his head upward to see eye to eye with the taller kerion. His figure was slim and wiry, while Takar had slightly more muscle. His hair was black, streaked through with some barely noticeable gray and on one side, faint marine blue. It just touched his shoulders, and the teen wore a light gray shirt and darker gray cargo pants. His left ear was pierced with a single silver ring, instead of one each like Takar's own ears.

For a short time the two stared each other in the eye. Takar, still simmering, finally spoke to break the silence-and get away from Fearon's accusing glare. "Can you really blame me?" His tone was dark and serious, showing that the pilot wasn't joking in the slightest.

"Yeah, I can," Fearon said back, his tone stern and reprimanding. It caused Takar to look even more angry, but Fearon didn't stop talking. "We need to show we can work together when we go before the Sky Knight Council. They aren't going to want to see bickering teammates-it'll already be hard for us to get registered as teenagers."

Takar's tensed shoulders relaxed. Tentatively Fearon released his arm, not entirely sure if the kerion would decide to brawl with him in Lehvahk's place. He reached over and snagged a piece of toast, beginning to eat it. _Lehvahk has one to eat still, anyway, _he thought.

"Do you see my point?" he muttered past the bread in his mouth. Fearon mainly seemed to be conveying his opinion through his eyes, as they were fixated keenly on Takar's own. Despite himself, the pilot felt the disapproval start to get to him, although he kept his face expressionless.

"Fine."

After the short reply, Takar turned and strode out of the kitchen. Fearon reminded standing in the same spot for a few more moments, eyes on the doorway. The he plucked up the second piece of toast, and set off to find Lehvahk to give his friend breakfast.

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Lehvahk had made it to the bridge in what seemed like four seconds flat. It was certainly a unwelcome shock to Somra when the blizzarian sharpshooter ran up and tried to hide behind her.

Somra's midnight blue scales were dusted in some spots from bomb powder, as were her black vest and deep purple shirt. The rahkshi teen had been working with the said explosive object, and had been heavily focused on the task. So much that Lehvahk's sudden action had caused her to fumble with the bomb, causing her to nearly drop it.

"The hell, Lehvahk!" she snapped. Her red eyes flashed furiously as she rounded on her teammate, who had pressed himself against the wall. Lehvahk kept shooting furtive glances toward the bridge door, then looking back at Somra nervously. "Do you know what could have happened?"

"Um, it would fall?" Lehvahk suggested weakly.

Somra snorted in irritation and tossed her ponytail of silver hair back over her right shoulder. Then she answered the question with a sneering and mocking quality. "Or it could have exploded, numbskull! You can't count on a explosive being a dud!"

The lone observer to this event shook his head and sighed. He looked largely like a gray furred blizzarian, with the exception of two small horns poking from his brown blonde hair. His muzzle was a little longer and more angular than a normal blizzarian's, and his eyes were a bright green. He wore a simple shirt that had holes and tears in many places, like his blue cloth pants. The figure under them was lean and bony. He yawned and stretched, then spoke up with the intention of becoming the peacemaker in the situation.

"You can't really blame Lehvahk for not knowing, Somra. The bomb could look plenty dead to him, it isn't his area of knowledge."

"Nowhere's his area of knowledge," Somra grumbled in response.

"Hey!"

"Enough." Rahk looked up and nodded acknowledgment to the leader, who was leaning on the bridge doorframe with a amused glint in his eye. Yet as he watched, the glint faded, and Fearon directed his gaze out the window. "Prepare to leave in a few minutes," he continued. "I'll meet you in the hanger. Lehvahk, can you go find Scout?"

Eager to escape Somra's searing gaze, Lehvahk jumped at the chance. "Aye aye!" he was gone in a rush of displaced air.

Rahk raised an eyebrow and stared after the hyperactive marksman. "He's sure being helpful all of a sudden. Maybe it'll be a running theme."

"He won't be hauling his lazy ass up regularly," Somra snorted. "It's just that he wanted to get away from me."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x_

Scout was dozing on the roof of the Strikeflier when he was found by the team's ecstatic sharpshooter.

Scout was a visorak, a creature that lived in marshes and swamps. All visorak had the same general body shape – long and slim bodies and tails, hind legs like a t-rex, a lizard head crested with spines, and forelegs tipped with nimble paws that were as adept as hands. While most visorak were dull browns, grays and back so they could blend in with the environment, Scout's colors were a vibrant rarity.

He was stretched out lazily on the Strikeflier, the old carrier ship's worn metal pleasantly hot against his crimson red scales. Scout's half open eyes were a rich dark green. He had also been gifted at birth with the ability to breathe fire.

Scout was having a pleasant dream about playing in the surf when the door that led to the Strikeflier's observation deck swung open on it's creaky hinges. At first he paid it no mind, thinking that it was simply someone coming out to enjoy the sunshine. Even as Scout's hazy mind registered that footsteps were climbing the ladder to the roof, it was too late. His nap was about to be rudely interrupted.

The crimson visorak was hauled from the pleasant metal surface abruptly as arms slipped underneath his forelegs and wrapped around his chest. He let out a startled, indignant squawk, kicking at the air with his hind legs.

Scout was answered by a good natured chuckle. He stopped kicking and twisted his neck, staring into Lehvahk's blue eyes. Propped on his hind legs, Scout was nearly as tall as the sharpshooter.

"It's time," the Blizzarian replied, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Sorry it's interrupted your nap."

The visorak churred sullenly, looking down at the Strikeflier's roof. He could see the heat rising form it in lazy ripples, and longed to envelope himself in that cocoon of heat again. But he knew this could not be so, even as Lehvahk began to drag him off the roof.

XxxxxxxxxxxXXX

**Just a little note on how old these OC'S are, and what their last names are-**

**Fearon Redskye-17**

**Somra Kyln-16**

**Rahk Triddar-17**

**Takar Byreflame-18**

**Lehvahk Tranen-16**

**Please comment and tell me what you think of them. :D the chapter after this is better than this one, I feel. Writing in first person proved to make a better chapter. Feedback will encurage me to post it. :D**

**~dharak**


	2. a new beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Storm Hawks, the Deltora books, or any other names or references to copyrighted properties. **

_Reminder about racial appearance-_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

**PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING-New race in this chapter:**

_Felisar-heads and faces of cats, varying fur, humanlike hands and feet, tails, long of short hair. _

**Fearon's POV**

I've never been a good liar or actor. That's why it scared me when I slipped back into my other mindset, even for a moment-the one I had gained in my desperation in the aftermath of my abandonment.

I stood in the hangar with our skimmers and a large amount of other stuff, most of it tools or spare parts. The walls and roof were streaked with black, like a stick of charcoal had been dragged over it. There were spots warped into whorls and dribbles of hardened metal drips, like the spots had been partway through the process of melting. A row of rectangular overhead lights ran from the back of the room to the front. In some spots wiring poked through the old plating, so battered from age it looked partially mangled. The walls had the distinctive rails known as 'crash rails,' sticking out at waist height- a trait that most new ships had abandoned using. Their name strongly hinted what their purpose was.

Our rides were lined up as neatly as possible in the narrow hangar-my red Air Skimmer, Lehvahk's green one, Rahk's modified scarlet Switchblade Elite, Takar's wiry, patched skimmer, and Somra's blue Slip Wing.

The last thing on my mind was the skimmers or hanger, though. I found myself pacing the space instead, feeling tense and uncomfortably warm as I became more and more nervous.

"Okay," I tried for the tenth time in the last few minutes to think of a response to the question that had a good chance of never being asked, but I felt better by preparing for this. It was the only way I could think of to vent the nervous buildup in my mind and body. "I know I did some things, but I was angry and desperate so-think you could-argh!"

I slammed a fist into the wall. The already contoured plating groaned as if in protest. Ignoring the noise, I continued to stand there and steadfastly curse myself.

"Damn it! Why can't they just forget the past already?"

I stopped suddenly, letting out a long breath and feeling a slight sting in my eyes. Hastily I blinked and suppressed it. _How can I expect the Council to forget my criminal record? I can't forget it myself!"_

Apparently thinking about the Council revealing my past to my friends wasn't the best thing to do. I worried obsessively over what they would say and think of me if they ever found out-one of the reasons I kept the secret caged tightly within me. I'd never been sure if it was a good thing to do, or if the secret was bogging me down instead and slowly strangling me.

Wearily I leaned against the wall and braced one hand on the crash rail, closing my eyes. Images flashed through my mind in rapid succession-robberies, street fights, sabotage tasks, all blurring messily together and angering me with their strength. I didn't _want_ them to be so strong in my mind. The memories hadn't faded a bit-if anything, the more I worried over my past, the stronger my memories of it seemed to become.

It was a problem, I was fairly certain of that. Maybe a mental one, or one produced by childhood trauma. I'd never been able to figure it out. I was considering taking my anger out on the wall some more, as damaging as it would be to my fists, when footsteps behind me interrupted my former intentions. A faint dusty smell, like desert sand, heralded Somra's approach.

I only went to speak after collecting myself. Then I turned to face her, slowly dropping my hand from the wall. I only now registered a dull ache in my jaw, and wondered vaguely were it had come from.

"Everyone's ready?" I asked. I was careful to keep my voice level and a little upbeat, but Somra's brow furrowed. She may have heard the faint tremor underlying my voice.

I had known Somra the longest out of all of the squadron, and we had been trained under the same mentor prior me going to the Academy. I had often felt ridiculously happy to see her. I wasn't certain if it was the beginnings of love. Even if they were, I didn't have the courage to act on it. The feelings usually made me steel my resolve to keep my past a secret.

Somra didn't inquire on the uncertainty she picked up, maybe thinking she had imagined it. That or she decided i was just nervous. Instead she just answered plainly and simply, although her eyes didn't leave mine. "Yeah. The others are right behind me."

As if on que, the sounds of more feet were heard. I recognized Takar's heavy boots on the metal floors, and Lehvahk and Rahk's lighter steps. Scout's dainty gait could be heard approaching first, and the visorak rocketed through the door that slid open to admit him. He was shortly followed by the others, Lehvahk lurching through second in hurry. He seemed to be in the middle of some kind of apology.

"C'mon, Scout. I'm sorry for waking you up from your nap-"

Scout just shot him a surly glance.

"But if you kept sleeping, you'll miss the big day."

Scout's expression changed to thoughtfulness. Then he squawked in agreement and dashed back to Lehvahk's side, and the two high fived. "Let's go do this!" Lehvahk announced exuberantly, Scout grinning and puffing his chest out in agreement.

Rahk looked at them both with mock exaggeration. "You two are such a pair of idiots."

"Hey, sometimes that's good," Lehvahk shot back, throwing his arms out wide like a stage master presenting his star attraction. "The world wouldn't get anywhere without us."

"It wouldn't have veered into the clutches of damnation several times, for one," Takar responded icily, already on his brown patchwork skimmer.

"I disagree!" Lehvahk replied. "We've provided plenty of good things the world couldn't have gone without."

"Oh really?" Somra snorted. "What could it have gone without that you could provide?"

"Humor," lehvahk answered back.

"So no one else can be funny but you?" I asked jokingly as we began to mount our skimmers.

"No, it just means I'm funnier than the rest of you bastards," Lehavhk replied, Scout nodding in agreement from his perch on the back of Lehvahk's skimmer, holding onto the tops of the vehicle's two converters

"Keep thinking that, Lehvahk," Somra replied caustically. "You need to have some kind of damn talent, after all."

"Hey, I have more talents than just shooting!"

Somra stuck her tongue out at him, and I couldn't resist laughing along with Rahk. Then Somra revved her blue Slip Wing and shot out of the hanger, her midnight blue scales flashing in the sun and leaving the faint smell of burnt rubber.

"Oh no you don't!" Lehavhk howled after her. His green air skimmer shot forward, and me and Rahk instantly followed. I heard the scratchy roar of Takar's ride as he followed as well, muttering something about braindead sharpshooters.

**Somra's POV**

I so enjoyed ticking Lehvahk off. It was funny to see his face turn red with embarrassment.

Laughing, I let my ride race down the street. Marvaka's buildings, battered by centuries of salty sea air, storms, and tides, became a blur of brown and white. The air smelled of sweet swamp flowers and sea salt-the comforting smell I had grown up with all my life. I hadn't lived in Marvaka forever, as homely as the island capital was. But I had lived on the island itself, and it never ceased to make me happy.

Although, now I had two places that felt like home-the Strikeflier, our hardy, brave carrier ship, and Kylan Isle. I wouldn't want to lose either. Both meant so much to me they felt like family-the island from being my childhood home, and the Strikeflier as the home of the people whom I had bonded with and envisioned our collective future with.

Some I had bonded with more than others, maybe, particularly Fearon. A niggling warmth in my chest seemed present around him, but I had never been brave enough to explore what I suspected was love. That emotion had always been something I had a hard time understanding-it clashed with my personality, I suppose.

I turned sharply around a corner, the tire grips easily keeping the Slip Wing steady. Then I went on. I knew the others we following me, since I could faintly hear their rides behind me. But by now, I saw this as a race, and I didn't want it to be beat.

The Council building was in sight soon enough. In the centuries when Sky knights had spread beyond Atmos, it had stayed the City Hall, but in addition became the Deltoran Sky Knight Council's place of official business too.

It was a impressive sight. Old as the city, it was made of rough hewn, pale gray stone and wooden beams of reddish wood from the local Ironbark swamp trees. The lower part of the building was thirty feet high, and a group of four slender spires rose a good twenty feet more. Rows of ornate minarets made to resemble the serpentine head and necks of dragons curved upward into the sky. Made of burnished silver, they shone brightly in the early morning sunlight. A pair of banners hung on either side of the huge doors, bearing Deltora's continental insignia-a star like a compass rose, crossed with spears pointing diagonally in four directions. I always felt a touch of pride when I looked at the symbol, and I saw more often than one would think-mainly due to the Strikeflier having metal outlines of it nailed onto the walls on both sides of the bridge door.

I got a minute or so and used it well-I briefly and respectfully admired the structure that was Marvaka's City Hall/Deltora's Council building. Then I leaned against a old, stooping tree in front of it next to my skimmer, preparing to gloat. The tree's leaves were sparse and dry, scorched by the hot summer sun.

As it happened, it wasn't Lehavhk who arrived first, but Fearon instead. He stopped his red Air Skimmer before me and a brief spray of grit showered on my feet. I rolled my eyes at Fearon, and he shrugged apologetically. I gave him a forgiving smile in return. Rahk arrived next, tailed by Lehvahk. The scarlet Switchblade Elite turned heads, but not quite out of fear, more out of interest. The skimmer had been modified by Takar and Scout to be quieter, lighter, and much less fuel consuming than the original design. They hadn't removed the distinctive wing blades, though-none of us had wanted to. They just looked too neat.

Lehavhk was tailing him closely, Scout urging him on with wild churrs and screeches. Takar was a few feet behind. Our pilot looked unconcerned, even bored-he probably hadn't bothered to try and get ahead, even though his skimmer was fully capable of going faster.

They all stopped short by the tree. Scout was nearly flung off by Lehvahk's abrupt halt, and he screeched in irritation. Lehvahk ignored that and glared at Fearon, then at me. "Oh, come on! I should have at least gotten second place."

"You probably made some kind of mistake that cost you," I snorted. "Fearon's a better racer than you are, anyway."

"Then why the hell didn't he beat you?"

"Because it wasn't a race until a few minutes in," Fearon responded, regarding Lehvahk with a amused grin. "And Somra got herself a head start."

Lehavhk groaned. I stuck my tongue out at him a second time, prompting Rahk to shake his head, probably wondering how he put up with our crazed squadron. Takar just maintained a blank look.

"Alright, we've had enough fooling around," Fearon spoke tersely, voice tight with excitement and maybe a bit of nervousness, although there was a emotion present that I couldn't identify. "Let's do this."

**Fearon's POV**

Nothing had ever seemed more menacing to me than the City Hall right now. I felt like it had become much hotter out than it already was. The rest of the city seemed to fade out, leaving only the impressive stone and wood building in sharp detail.

Knowing I was expected to lead the way in, I walked slowly up the steps. The cool slate felt good against my currently warm skin. I could hear the others follow, but out of a unspoken instinct made my steps silent with hardly any effort.

The doors where a whole other challenge. They seemed almost as intimidating as the gates of hell, made more so by the knowledge that a position as a Sky Knight could be denied to me. I grasped the cold silver handle, then pulled.

The wooden oak doors swung open with a slight creak. The noise was hardly loud, but rang through the vast space beyond easily.

The roof arched thirty feet, maybe thirty five feet high. Wooden rafters slanted diagonal from the floor up to the roof, intersecting with one another in the middle and making a series of triangle arches we would need to walk through. Rich red and green light filtered in bright beams through the stain glass windows, dappling the floor with a mesmerizing mix of both colors.

I realized I was staring when someone poked me in the shoulder. "We aren't here to sightsee, remember?"

I felt a slight flood of embarrassment at Somra's statement, and could only hope none of it had shown in my expression. "Right. Sorry."

"You'd better be," Somra muttered as I started walking again.

Now that the structure of the hall had been digested, the furniture was the next thing we saw. Mostly it was orderly rows of chipped wooden desks and sparsely padded chairs that looked as old as the City Hall itself. The main centerpiece was a slightly raised platform at the back of the hall. On it was a larger desk that looked newer than the others, but still carrying signs of mistreatment over the centuries.

A single person sat there, leaned over a thick book and tapping the end of a pen against the desk surface. A felisar, from the looks of it, with ash gray fur, and gray hair streaked with white. I wasn't sure of his age-it was tricky with the felisar race's long lifespan. This one could be forty or seventy, and I couldn't tell the difference.

I stopped before the raised platform. Out of a silent, instinctual command, my friends stopped too.

The felisar kept tapping the desk. Then he let out a murmur, wrote something and began tapping again.

We stood there for another few seconds. I was just starting to step onto the platform to make our presence known when we were finally addressed. "Halt. I am aware of you. I am the head of the Council. Talsain, you may call me. Now state your business."

The words weren't spoken unkindly, but there was a hint of steel in them that made me instantly reverse my action.

"We're here to be registered as a squadron," I answered, carefully studying the pronounced facial features of Talsain, waiting for some sign of response. I was given one when the Head of the Council closed the book, pushed it aside, and put another book in it's place. Then he looked up, tossing the pen idly in one hand.

Almost immediately his eyes seemed to pierce my mental barriers and reveal all to him, almost as if the felisar were physic. I felt like those eyes were studying my emotions and memories now, and I could envision them reflecting in Talsain's pale blue eyes. I expected anything besides what actually happened next.

"Not a soul with a easy path, are you? But then, the Redskye family has always been blessed with survivors in their line. At least up until the Dark Ages." Talsain smiled, a expression foreign were I had expected disgust. His eyes were somewhat wary, like he didn't know what to make of me, but they contained hints of respect too. "I've heard of your father. Quite a legacy to live up to."

Slightly stunned, I was just able to form a competent response before I looked like a fool. "Yes."

Talsain nodded. "But I don't know your name." He opened the book before him and flipped through the pages before stopping halfway through. "But I'll need to know you and our friend's names if I want to put you in this book."

"Right," I steadily replied, now back in control of emotions and thought process. "Fearon Redskye. Leader and Sky Knight."

Talsain scribbled it down. He looked at me one more time with his penetrating gaze, slowly nodding. I thought I could see him smiling slightly, even as he turned his attention on the next in line.

Somra straightened when he looked at her, defiantly meeting his eyes with her own red eyes glare. Daring him to give her the look Talsain had given me, maybe.

"Somra Kyln, weapons specialist and explosives expert," she said strongly, still keeping up the staring contest.

Talsain stared back with an eyebrow raised. For a moment they kept at it, and I started to wonder if they would have a staring contest here and now. Then Talsain scribbled down Somra's info and looked at Takar.

Our pilot had been standing with his arms crossed over his chest, staring nonchalantly into space. When Talsain first looked at him Takar snapped back into reality and glowered at him, maybe for interrupting a daydream.

We never found out. Unfazed by Takar's dismal and moody attitude, Talsain professionally carried on. Despite that, his eyes lingered on Takar with a intrigue.

"Name and position."

The words couldn't have been more clear, but Takar hesitated. His eyes flicked nervously form side to side almost like a hunted animal. They bore a skittish look I had seen very rarely-only when Takar shied away from any conversation about his childhood.

"First and last name?"

His hoarse voice drew immediate attention. We all gave him confused looks, thinking that he sounded miserable, when before he hadn't been close to it.

"Yes," Talsain replied. He had maintained his current position, but curiosity was stronger than ever in his eyes now. "Why do you not like that?"

Takar gnawed on his lip. "I don't like my last name. It reminds me of things."

His voice seemed to have taken on a hint of anger, but like before Talsain showed no reaction. "You only need to say it once."

Takar hunched his shoulders, mouth pressed into a flat line and looking at the floor. "Takar Byreflame. Carrier pilot."

The words were spoken in a low, grudging murmur, but Talsain seemed to hear them just fine. He wrote down the words spoken to him and then stretched with a feline grace, tilting his head and letting the pensive gaze of his wander over to Rahk.

Self consciously Rahk shuffled in place, but still managed to keep a respectful image. I knew the reason behind his sensitivity-Rahk was part dragon and part Blizzarian, and what most would carelessly call half-breed. It was considered a demeaning term, adopted crudely to describe beings with parents of different races. Rahk had faced prejudice several times. Knowing what that was like from being judged by my criminal record, I had often stepped in to defend him.

"Rahk Triddar, crystal specialist and navigator."

Like with me, Talsain didn't look judgmental. He looked more like he had with Takar-intrigued, but not quite as much as with our pilot. "You have the bearing of someone for that position," he commented kindly, scratching in the book with his pen again.

Rahk blinked, clearly not knowing what to think of the kind words. Rather than choosing to speak, he opted to remain silent. Probably a good idea-better than wanting to say something, then making a fool of yourself.

Last but not least, Talsain addressed Lehavhk. He had been staring at the Head for the Council the entire time with a look of concentration. I should have realized this wasn't a good thing.

"How old are you?" Lehavhk asked bluntly, immune to the glares from the rest of us. For all we knew, the comment could lose us the registration.

Surprisingly and much to my relief, that didn't happen. Instead Talsain answered in a calm, measured tone, and I felt the knot of tension in my shoulders unwind. "Eighty. For a felisar, just past middle aged. Now, why don't you tell me your name and position, eager young one?"

Lehavhk blinked at the term 'young one,' but accepted it graciously and laid a fist on his chest in salute. "Lehvahk Tranen, sharpshooter and scout, sir."

Somra covered her mouth with her hand to keep from sniggering at Lehvahk's ridiculous salute. I couldn't keep a brief smile of amusement from my face. Rahk glanced at Lehvahk and raised his eyes to roof as if praying to the gods, maybe for them to knock some real respect into our teammate. Takar just stared straight ahead, jaw set stiffly. He seemed to be determined to ignore the world, for whatever strange reason he had.

Talsain nodded and wrote the name. Then he peered quizzically at Scout. "And him?" he asked quietly.

"Scout," I answered. "He's our mechanic."

Talsain's eyebrows shot up, and Scout drew himself up proudly, glaring at Talsain as if daring him to laugh. The middle aged felisar didn't, instead writing down Scout's info. Then he leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers. The penetrating gaze was back, along with the curiosity. "And the name of the squadron."

I felt my friend's expectant gazes on me. Obeying the unspoken prompt, I answered swiftly and surely. "Lycanthropes."

Talsain slowly leaned forward and wrote the name down. As he did, a comment slipped out. "Odd, naming yourselves after werewolves."

"It fits," I responded. "We'll be loners anyway-I'm right to assume nowhere needs a stationed squadron right?"

A strange smile lit Talsain's pale blue eyes. "Indeed. You are intelligent for your age, young Redskye. I feel I can expect great things from you."

**Lehvahk's POV**

The second we left the building, I erupted into a joyous warble.

I felt more happy than I'd ever been, like I'd been zapped by a lightning serpent. But instead of hurting, it felt invigorating, and I drew on it with eagerness.

Once outside I performed a flip, whooped, and landed in a kneeling stance with both hands thrown wide. Ignoring the peculiar glances shot at me, I shouted freely to the sky. "Get ready, Amihawk, here we come!"

"As if the whole world wants you around," Somra tried to sound scornful of my display, but I could see differently when she came up beside me. She was grinning so wide nearly all of her teeth were visible. The only time I had ever seen her this happy before was when she had won a sweepstakes for twenty cans of beer. She didn't admit it, but she had alcoholic tendencies. Rahkshi tended to never suffer any visible effects from it, but were subject to the mental. Takar actively suspected that Somra drank a can of the stuff at least once every two days.

Fearon was smiling, but his eyes looked full of turbulent emotions. When I opened my mouth to ask, he shot me a sharp look from narrowed eyes, and I stopped. Fearon rarely tried to look frightening around us, but in that instant he had looked fairly predatory. I knew it would be best to shut up-something I never usually did, with sparse exceptions.

"Well, what now?"

Leave it to Takar the ever pessimistic to bring the mood down.

Fearon's expression turned thoughtful. He looked absentmindedly to the sky, running his hand through his hair. "Hm. I'm not sure. I guess we celebrate, but we need a vote."

"A vote, huh?" Rahk muttered. "Are you sure we can agree on anything?"

"Yeah, I think we can. We suggest places, and we vote," Fearon said simply. "I suggest we go back to to the ship and have a pizza feast."

Somra tilted her head. "Or we could go to a bar." She grinned like a wolf. "Free drink."

"Any other suggestions?" Takar asked uneasily. "I hate crowds. Especially drunken ones."

"And preferably suggestions that don't allow Somra to get a hangover," I added helpfully. She scowled at me. "Shut up," she growled.

Scout squawked a agreement. He was probably my best friend in the group, despite working with Takar quite a lot due to his position as mechanic.

Somra's gaze now felt like a swarm of bees was stinging me, it was so intense. It's funny how she doesn't give anyone else that look. But it was pretty much true. Somra was normally a smart aleck and had a hell of a temper. We didn't need that fueled by alcohol.

"All for pizza?" Rahk said loudly, trying to be the mediator. He raised his hand. The rest of us did too. Somra's hand went up grudgingly, although she was still staring bloody murder at me.

"I'm gonna kick your sorry ass," she hissed, very much snakelike.

I shot her a cocky grin in response. She snorted. "Alright, crack boy. You're on."

An hour later, we were back on the Strikeflier again. I was given the honor of carrying the two pizza boxes, and I did so like a waiter, balancing one on each hand. I did end up dropping one, so the pizza was upside down when we opened the box. Being the pizza lovers and inept cooks we all were, though, it didn't make a difference. We tore into it like a group of starving animals, and both pizzas were gone in a matter of minutes. Manners were something we typically threw out the window aboard the Strikeflier, since no one cared about them.

It came down to only one slice left in the box, and me and Somra, ever the feuding pair, had a staring contest over it. We were both wondering who would grab for it first. Even Takar, who normally showed no interest in these things, craned his head to peer at us. He might have chosen to be part of the ring of spectators at the prospect of Somra beating me to a pulp, though, since he didn't like me any more than she did.

"It has come to this," Fearon announced. He sounded like he was trying but failing to be serious, with a smile tugging at his lips and a hint of laughter in his tone. "The last piece. Who will claim it?"

"It shall be me," Somra said in a sarcastic overly dramatic voice, spreading her arms. "I am the worthy one."

I hawked into my water glass and placed it right in front of her. "Wrong. It be me."

Somra snarled, showing her vicious fangs and shoving my glass away. My saliva wobbled and spread on the surface of the shallow water within. "We'll see."

I lunged. She lunged. The others crowed and shouted encouragement, and my furred hand nearly reached the pizza before Somra's scaled and clawed hand latched onto my wrist, yanking my arm upwards. Her other hand flashed toward the food, but I knocked it away and leaned further across the table, shoving at her with my forearm. I tried to bite the pizza, but Somra grabbed my jaw and held it closed. I splatted my palm against her cheek, shoving her gaze away from the slice. Our free hands groped and grappled, until finally I snagged the pizza slice. Somra grabbed at me, and I jumped up and leaned backward.

I did so a little too much. I went toppling onto my back behind the Strikeflier's sparsely padded bridge couch. I stuffed the pizza into my mouth, and Somra's footsteps came pounding toward me. The amused faces of the others hovered in the air as I covered my mouth with my hands, chewing and swallowing the last of the food as Somra tried to pull my fingers away.

She managed a minute later but it was too late. I lay splayed on the metal floor and laughed.

"Ha, gotcha!"

At first, Somra glared murderously. A tense silence hung about, and I didn't want a repeat of the waffle incident from this morning. Then her glare eased. "You sure are damn good at fighting for your food."

The bridge erupted into laughter, the group of us cackling like a pack of hyenas. In my eyes, the perfect ending to the night.

**Somra's POV**

There were times when I wanted to strangle Lehvahk. Or I could decide on the less disruptive path, playing with my marbles.

It had annoyed me a _lot_ more than I wanted to admit that he had gotten that pizza slice first, especially after having the nerve to eat part of my breakfast. But I figured I would let him of the hook for the night, if only because it was special and I didn't want to risk messing it up. Otherwise, I would have been planning a revenge scheme to use on him right now.

I prowled down the Strikeflier's old metal hallway, the smell of the stained old pipes and the rags we tied them with pricking at my nose. Where Lehvahk was openly scornful about the Strikeflier's age, I personally saw her as Takar did, a loyal old ship that could haul us through anything. Although I didn't see the ship as a true love, witch Takar was definitely guilty of, no matter how much he sometimes flew into a rage about one of our carrier's many glitches. I just thought it was neat that we had this ship, a veteran warrior practically, at our side.

I entered my room with hardly any noise, just the faint rap of my clawed feet on the floor. I flicked the light on and revealed my personal haven on the ship.

All of the rooms on the Strikeflier were generally ten feet wide. In my case, that ten foot wide space was occupied by my bed, my desk, and a chipped and beaten up dresser. All furniture was bolted to the floor, so that during turbulent flights (or battle scenarios. I was wondering when we would come across those, come to think of it,) wouldn't send said heavy objects flying everywhere. The only thing on my wall was the secure rack I had erected for my spear. I had modified and sharpened it into a wonderfully sharp weapon, and I prided myself vastly on making it into a wicked pain bringer.

I kept the drawers of my desk bolted so that my small multitude of personal items didn't get lost, or poked at by curious squad members, like a certain blue eyed Blizzarian whose name starts with L. The top of the desk was covered with my hobby, stuff that I had been doing yesterday night but hadn't bothered to put away.

A few swords and daggers lay there, all basically rusted weaponry that I was working on fixing. Working to make dull things sharp is my favorite hobby, although I don't know why. It was just very pleasant to see them gleam again, and cut the test materials I brought like butter.

Explosives were there too. Weapons specialist regarded weapons, and bombs were, indeed, weapons. Furthermore, I had just the right personality to work with them. At times it was just fun to see things go boom.

Normally I would have these things in my largest desk drawer, that I'd divided in half. One side was for the blades, but the other side was padded so that the bombs would stay as still as possible in case my experiments blew up.

I like blowing stuff up when it isn't _my_ stuff. Or something else on the ship that was important.

There had been one time I couldn't resist a little fun and put a tiny bead shaped bomb in Lehvahk's drink. It had gone off without a sound and sprayed a gout of milk into his face the minute he picked it up. I'd laughed like a maniac.

See, that was what would normally be waiting for him the next day. Tomorrow that train of thought would be long gone, though, and I could begin to think on how I would get him back. But for now, my private therapeutic method was needed.

I carefully removed my bag of marbles from one of my drawers. Inside was an assortment of marbles. Some gleamed rainbow colors like oil on pavement. Others were black or green with swirls of other colors. Some were silver or clear, with colored specks, and four were bigger than the rest.

I knelt on the floor and gently poured the marbles out. They made sharp skittering noises on the point of impact, but before they could all separate I made walls with my arms. They rolled and plinked about, trapped by me. I herded them against one of the corners of my room and used my arm again, this time to trap the little glass balls in a triangular shaped space. Then I began to push them around with my free hand, watching as they caused those around them to move forward, or back or sideways across the slightly corrugated metal floor. The bigger ones were the best to watch, because they would roll right through rows of the little ones like they were nothing.

I wasn't sure why I found this so comforting. It might have been because the marbles reminded my of the flow of life. One little thing could change life's course, drastically or hardly at all. One huge disaster, like the big marbles scattering the small ones, could completely uproot your reality. Or it could happen the other way around, and cause good instead of bad.

I smiled to myself at that thought and continued my little therapeutic game.

**Fearon's POV**

I breathed in the familiar smell of Kylan Isle. Bracing my hands on the nicked rail of the observation deck, I gazed for a few quiet moments over the bay. The reflections of the moon and stars wavered on the surface, creating a entrancing spectacle of lights.

Heaving a large sigh, I allowed myself to fall back against the slanting window of the Strikeflier. The thick glass of ancient carrier's windows was cool and solid, four inches thick. Perfect support for someone who wanted something to lean on.

I slid down the smooth surface until I was sitting on the observation deck with my legs crossed. I completely relaxed my back muscles and let the cool glass support me, idly fingering my loose shirt collar. Then my wandering fingers found their way to my collarbone, where they found the faintly raised white line of a old scar. It ran from my collarbone down the middle of my stomach, ending just before the hip. The injury had been the result of a failed attempt to fight the crime leader I had once worked for.

The others had seen it before, but I'd always avoided their questions about were the scar had come from. The first reason was due to his reluctance to remember the searing pain, and my near death. The other reason was obvious.

_I shouldn't be thinking about this. _I shook my head impatiently, letting my hand drop back onto the deck beside me. I tilted my head back and gazed at the stars, some eclipsed by the curve of the Strikeflier's overhang.

A official Sky Knight. Like my father. Even though I knew I had no way of knowing what my father was thinking now, I wished he did.

"I'm going to make up for everything," I muttered, thinking aloud. "I'm never becoming what I was again. I'll make you proud."

_I'll prove to the Council and the other Sky Knights that I've risen above my past._

I meant it with every fiber of my being. I wanted them all to see-see that I'm Kybron Redskye's son. Even more than that, I just wanted to be seen as a true Sky Knight, equal to them, and escape their contempt.

The creak of hinges sounded, along with smooth, swift footsteps. I jerked my head to the left in surprise, and was greeted by the sight of Takar. He was still fully clothed, leaning causally on both hands against the observation railing as if he had been there all night, facing away from me.

"Make who proud?" Takar asked flatly. His dark brown hair looked nearly black in the night. Since it went down to his shoulder and he had his back to me, I couldn't see his eyes. "Or are you talking to ghosts?"

There was a bitter sarcastic tone in his words, but I chose to ignore it. I knew Takar wasn't speaking that way for his own amusement, either, as his mouth was set in a firm line. It was practically the norm - so far, Takar had yet to talk without some trace of bitterness in the depths of his voice.

No member of the squadron had been able to figure out were Takar's temperamental and defensive attitude had come from. He clammed up whenever questioned about it, like I myself did whenever I was asked a personal question that I didn't want to answer. The difference was that I would usually find a distraction or subtle way to switch topics. Takar simply flat out refused to answer any questions, keeping completely silent. After a few minutes of waiting, things usually moved on and left the conversation behind.

What I was currently wondering was why Takar had chosen to come out onto the deck only a few minutes after I had. It was almost as if he had been watching.

"Where you sitting in the bridge before?"

The corner of Takar's mouth twitched. "Yeah. What else would I be doing?"

_Answer a question and then retaliate with another. Smart_. "Sleeping, maybe? Or spending some time in your room?"

"You aren't doing any of those," Takar replied tensely. He gripped the deck rail with extra vigor. "What's your excuse?"

I shrugged. "I'm only out here to..."

I trailed off without meaning to. Why exactly had I come here? I could have pondered today's occurrences anywhere- my room, even the hanger bay. Why the observation deck?

Then I found his answer. "I was looking at the stars. I guess because I like to feel a connection with my parents, when I feel...uncertain."

"They're dead," Takar said flatly.

"Yeah."

"But you have fond memories of them?

"Yes."

"That must be nice," Takar muttered. His lips twisted into a bitter grimace as he seemed to recall some unpleasant memory. "To have parents who actually loved you."

I crossed my arms over my chest and studied Takar with narrowed eyes. His words were soaked in volatile hate, the joyless smile making me even more curious. Maybe I was getting somewhere with the secretive kerion. "What were they like?"

Instantly Takar stood bolt upright. I couldn't see his face, but Takar's reaction seemed shocked and slightly panicked.

**Takar's POV**

_Damn it, _I thought, gritting my teeth slightly. _How could I have let that slip?_

The answer came to me unbidden. _Because I've been hiding my past so long – and Fearon __has too. We're alike that way. Maybe in more ways than that. _

A few moments of silence transpired next. Fearon and I locked gazes during those few moments. Fearon's look asked -_ why do you hate your parents? What happened to you before we met?_

My look sent a single stony message- _I'm not telling. _

Fearon ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he used frequently when uncertain. At the same time he slowly rose onto both feet again. Dropping his hand to his side, Fearon began to walk past me to the door back into the bridge. He stopped briefly, looking over his shoulder at me. I was still standing there, my hands locked in a death grip around the rail. "You could tell us. It might help."

"Same with you, Fearon," I replied, still not changing my position. My face and tone was carefully blank of any hint of emotion, but inwardly any number of them was roiling around in a turbulent mess. "You're keeping your past a secret too. When you spill your secret...I'll do the same."

**Fearon's POV**

My mind full of unrest and new questions, I strode rapidly down the hallway, trying to clear my mind by expending energy. The conversation hadn't left me with any consolation. If anything, it had done the opposite.

I entered my room and changed into a loose shirt and pants, then threw myself onto the bed. I lay still for a little while, trying to steady my breathing.

My room's fairly blank. Just a narrow desk where I left my armor, sword and dagger. And strewn about clothes. Barely anything to look at. The only keepsake from my dad was my sword. I didn't have anything else.

It took a while, but I eventually drifted off into sleep, wondering vaguely about our future. What battles would we fight as freelancers? What enemies and allies would we make?

I fell asleep with the last question hovering in mind like a persistent fog.

**Takar's POV**

After Fearon left, I stayed on the deck for a few minutes longer, attempting-nd largely failing-to clear my head. I gave it up as a lost cause and went back inside, carelessly letting the creaky door bang shut behind me. At this point, I was too distracted and maybe frustrated to care.

After throwing on my pajama pants and my linen robe, I rolled onto the bed in my blueprint covered room and tried to relax.

I didn't want to be victim of my insomnia tonight. It happened too much. I just wanted a peaceful sleep.

**PLS tell me what you think! I really want feedback. Review and/or comment pls! :D**


	3. shipwreck

**I don't own Storm Hawks. **

_**I will warn readers that this chapter is were some bloody scenes and slight gore start to get involved in the story. **_

_**Reminder about racial appearances:**_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

**Rahk**

The next two days were a monotony for us, occupied mainly with practice fights, flying practice, and generally the carefree antics you would expect from teenagers. I wasn't always present for them, but instead used the time for working on my more volatile crystals when Lehvahk was not in the perimeter. I didn't hate his enthusiasm-not like Takar did, at any rate. But he still had a strange talent for causing unwanted accidents during my experiments, so I usually preferred to perform them when he wasn't aboard. Just for safety's sake.

During that lulling period, it felt like we were in limbo. One day after another passed, monotony unable to set in because of the constant activity on board. It didn't matter if it was a verbal battle, or a physical skirmish, but they were always for different reasons and went to different victors. The main highlight of the week was when Scout and Lehvahk became engaged in a food fight, soon enough dragging Somra into the equation. That was when the situation changed to both humorous and dangerous. At that point it turned into a group activity as it soon became necessary to restrain Somra, not a easy task even in her weakest state.

It also gave me a lot of time to think, both about what we had accomplished a day ago and about our future. Now that we had been registered, I had to wonder what we would do now. I doubted they would want to assign a group of teenagers to any kind of important task for fear of us messing it up. Without a marked perimeter to guard, would we ever get a shot at doing the job we had been going for?

I would get my answer-just not in the fashion I would have wanted.

We were practicing sparring on the bridge on the third day after our registration. I suppose we could have done it in the hanger, but for some reason it just felt more comfortable to train on the bridge instead. It might have been due to the fact that we did generally everything together there, with the exception of Takar, who would hole up in the hanger incessantly from time to time. He greatly valued his mechanical exploits, most of which turned out to be well worth the time put into them.

Takar disliked our training by the helm greatly. As he often put it, our, 'loud and jarring raucous,' made it hard for him to focus on flying the Strikeflier. He'd given up on convincing us to relocate a long time ago, when it became clear we were too stubborn to break our habits. Nowadays he just flattened his ears and grumbled under his breath. He tapped his foot sometimes too, the sound of his large brown leather boots resounding against the metal. The toe ends were plated in metal. I half expected him to one day snap and ram those boots into someone's side to force us out of the bridge. He would follow the foot tapping up with scowls and dirty looks, but we were impervious to those.

I couldn't say the same about strangers who got on his bad side.

Me and Fearon were the first pair up. I'd found a way, (quite by accident, admittedly) to use shielding crystals in the hilts so that blades wouldn't actually cut anything. As such, Fearon was holding his two swords, both light and only requiring one hand to use.

One sword had back-swept spikes along the edge to enhance its ability to rip through and hook flesh. Somra had always enthusiastically raved about serrated edges like that, with colorful narration of how they could latch into and mangle muscle to shreds. Most of her descriptions were disturbingly graphic, so I typically tried not to think about them. The other was much plainer weapon, with a smooth edge instead of a serrated one.

We eyed each other uncertainly. Then Fearon lashed out, leaping forward and bringing both his blades down together in an arch.

The movement was so sudden I reacted instinctively. My staff flashed up, swiping at Fearon's weapons and deviating them, but he lashed out with the hilt of one sword almost instantly, bringing it crashing down towards my temple. If he had been in a real fight, it would have been a devastating blow, but Fearon only put enough force behind it to make me dizzy. His sword struck with serpentine swiftness, but I blocked it and angled my staff to catch his other blade too. Then I kicked at his legs. Fearon stumbled, and I was able to wrench my weapon out of deadlock.

Lehvahk whooped loudly. "Sky Knight versus Crystal specialist! I vote for Rahk."

"Nah," Fearon responded, a loose grin on his face. "I've got this."

No doubt more votes would have been submitted and eventually everyone would have gotten involved physically, but we didn't get the chance to continue our impromptu practice session. The entire ship suddenly jolted sideways, the horrible screeching noise of rending metal tearing through the air.

The world tipped crazily as Takar wrenched the ship free of whatever had ripped at it. Just at the edge of my vision, I thought I saw a dark shape among the clouds-some kind of carrier ship, but with a outline that seemed wrong somehow. It was gone quickly, but I was sure I hadn't imagined it. Either way, the ship was much too far away to cause whatever had happened just now.

"We need to find out what that was," Fearon announced, his eyes and tone reverting to what we called the serious mode. His eyes got as flat as flint and he looked like he was capable of launching into battle at any second.

"I think we should do it in battle gear," I said. A feeling of unease seemed to be advancing on me, crawling up my spine like a large hairy spider. Call it a draconic sixth sense, but I felt like I had an uncanny ability to sense when something was going to happen and it wouldn't be good.

Lehvahk voiced what everyone was thinking. "Why do you figure that?"

Fearon grimaced as if he had just tasted something unpleasant. "He's probably got the right idea. Whatever it is could be hostile."

**Lehvahk**

This is one of the times when I can really appreciate how sadistically creative Somra can be. Her defensive armor was nothing special. Generally, she just had a piece of metal completely covering the part of her chest that contained her heart. She had steel gauntlets on her forearms, and spiked shoulder and thigh armor.

She had a leather glove on her right hand that covered all of it but her thick gray talons. The glove was plated on top with metal plates, with small spaces between each so her fingers could move all they wanted. Three dagger like blades, sharp like those of a meat tenderizer and at least five inches long, were smelted to a metal plate that covered the back of her hand. Said plate was bolted into the glove's thick leather. She called the thing her Steel Claws. I'd seen her practice cutting stuff with them before. The homemade weapon didn't need a crystal to do it's work well.

Her other item of offense was her wickedly sharp spear. Her belt was hung with a small array of explosives.

"I hope we do get to fight something," she grinned crazily, a gleam in her eye as she rubbed the at the Strikeflier's deck railing like it was the handlebars of her Slip Wing. I was pretty certain she meant what she said, and it was somewhat frightening.

"Don't jinx it," I said sarcastically. Somra stuck her tongue out at me, still grinning.

"I live for two things, boy," she growled haughtily. "One is to keep the group of you busy so we don't all die of boredom. The other is to fight."

"If there is a fight, I'll be glad you're on our side," Fearon injected calmly, standing firmly beside us. Both he and I had an armor layout was like Somra's, except without the killer glove. Our chests were covered with more armor than hers as well, and the entire layout was kept in place by firmly buckled straps over our normal everyday clothes.

My weapon was my rifle, which was slung over my shoulder via a leather strap, plus a set of crystals to load into it to empower my shots hanging from a second diagonal leather sash across my chest.

Fearon had a leather sash with holsters for both his swords slung across his chest and over one shoulder. He stared down at the freighter, lost in thought.

Rahk was there on the deck with us too, his staff slung over his back and clipping a small pouch to his belt. It most likely contained other crystals to put in the staff besides the usual Firebolts, similar to the crystal array I carried for my rifle but chiseled to be placed in the staff's tips. Takar had decided to remain behind with Scout, in case the Strikeflier needed emergency piloting.

I knew that Takar had a weapon, a long and thick sword that he powered with a purple Striker crystal, but I'd never seen him use it and he apparently had no armor, at least none I had seen. I wasn't even clear on why he had the sword when he would be fighting with the ship.

Preparations aside, Fearon was soon hand signaling Takar to bring the Strikeflier closer to what had hit us. He obliged, and the carrier began to move cautiously in the direction indicated.

I have to say that what was saw was just a wee bit unnerving.

A cargo ship was below us, smoke curling from the engines. By the looks of it, the rudder had been what had grated into our ship, but because of our angle the rudder hadn't moved. It was the telltale tears in it that showed the spot of contact. The cargo airship was drifting forward, listing heavily to the right like gigantic limping beast. It was partially encompassed in a group of clouds. That was no doubt how we had ended up running over it as we had. We couldn't see the damage from here, but Takar had assured us that since the Strikeflier was flying unhampered, repairing it could wait. Often, it seems to me like he has a uncanny sense about those things.

"Well, they probably got permits from a lousy piloting school, don't you think?" I joked. "Or maybe from a grocery store."

Takar's nasally voice crackled from the singular speaker mounted below the deck overhang. "Yeah, sure. _That's_ the reason, even though the ship's engines are clearly busted."

I looked again and beheld that he was indeed right, although the way he said it was too layered in sarcasm for me to appreciate that. The engines were charred and at some points even cracked or missing chunks of plating, revealing destroyed circuitry. "Amazing that you noticed," I grumbled.

"I tend to be right, you know," Takar replied sharply.

"Don't respond," Rahk snapped peevishly the instant I opened my mouth. I glanced at him and saw our crystal specialist hunched on his Switchblade, casting paranoid glances as if he expected to be jumped.

"I don't need to be told how to use my own damn mouth," I grumbled.

"You need to listen to me, though," Fearon commented with a flick of his ear. He didn't say it meanly, just calmly and firmly.

I let my irritation drift away. "Alrighty, then." I asked cheerily, pricking my ears high. I pointed down at the drifting cargo freighter. "Are we going to board it?"

We all looked at Fearon expectantly, and he shifted uneasily on his ride. I think it was probably because this was the first time he was actually leading us in a somewhat dangerous situation, and giving us actual orders rather than attempted reprimands.

He chewed his lip carefully with his sharp teeth. "Yeah, that would probably be best. It's obvious the ship was attacked, but we don't know by who. And if we can figure out what the reason was, that will help more."

Somra squinted skeptically at the cargo ship. "These ships could be carrying any number of things."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try," Fearon replied with a slight grin. "Besides, we might get that fight you wanted."

Somra's eyes lit up manically and she rubbed her hands together. "Maybe," she muttered softly.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You're way to sadistic."

"I thrive on it. Do you even know what that word means?"

We continued our banter as Takar brought the Strikeflier up close to the flank of the cargo airship, probably guessing what Fearon's method of boarding would be. Passing this close, I could see spots were the metal had been ripped away and burn marks were everywhere, as if the airship had been pelted with a hail of comets. The most startling sight was the enormous gap that had been torn directly down the side of the ship like a gaping wound, wide enough for three skimmers to fit through side by side.

I shuddered despite my best effort not to. Something had done this, but the real question was what.

"That's...disturbing," Rahk muttered to my right, gazing down at the rendered metal. Fearon appeared unfazed, except that his shoulders had slightly tensed. Somra was slashing her hand through the air as if trying to mimic whatever had done the damage before us, and Rahk was looking even more spooked than he had before.

"Well, at least we've got a wide open door waiting for us," I stated in a tone of slightly forced enthusiasm. The mood lifted slightly, but the oppressive feel had already set in like a thick and heavy blanket had just been draped around our shoulders. Thankfully Fearon cracked a faint smile, showing that despite the tenseness of the situation he was at least still relaxed enough to smile, and it made me feel somewhat better.

"We're going to jump onto the pontoon from here, then through the gap into the freighter," Fearon instructed. "Takar will keep the Strikeflier here. At the first sign of trouble, get back, alright?"

No one questioned how we would get back onto the deck. A set of rungs was smelted into the left side of the ship, the one facing the gap. We had no idea why this was, but it wasn't the only unusual addition to the Strikeflier. There was also one window in the engine room, and the rails that ran along the sides of the corridors and the hanger, a few inches from the wall. We suspected they had been included to help passengers keep their footing in rough conditions.

"Got it, chief," I muttered, the uneasy feeling already prickling the skin under my fur.

As the Strikeflier's pontoon drew closer to the gap, I subconsciously started to examine the inside of the ship to the best of my ability. Three corridors had been revealed, the wane sunlight beaming across the first few feet of each one of them. Beyond the reach of the sunbeams, the corridors were shadowed and riddled with heaps of debris and fallen ceiling beams, making them look like hunched monsters at first glance.

I swallowed nervously. I was starting to understand Rahk's apprehension right about now. All of this damage looked fresh, hardly ten minutes old. It was all to easy to imagine a ambush.

Fearon stopped us right before we prepared to jump. "Wait a sec. The angle...I didn't think of that. We won't be able to jump safely over to that gap."

"And there's the debris to think about," Rahk noted cynically, his fingers drumming on the deck railing. "Skimmers can't land safely in all that stuff, either, especially not with the floor tilting like that. We need another plan."

Somra abruptly straightened. "I have one," she quipped. She pushed past us and opened the door that led back into the bridge, then blurted out her idea.

"Takar, could you stick the Strikeflier's runway into the gap in the freighter?"

Takar stayed silent for a moment or two, probably processing Somra's Somra-ish idea. "And what happens if the wind currents say 'what the hell, let's shove this cargo freighter into that other ship?' then we have more godsdamned repairs to deal with, which we can't afford with our crappy balances."

Somra listened to his entire sentence with a bored expression, then loosely shrugged her shoulders. "You could pull it off, I'm sure."

"Can't argue with that," I added. I didn't bother raising my voice, since kerion hearing was so good Takar had probably heard me anyway. I stretching and glancing at our surroundings, working some uncomfortable kinks out of my spine. "You're a great pilot, you can do it."

Takar grumbled incoherently to himself before closing the radio link. The roar of the Strikeflier's engines sounded as the ship banked, until the narrow runway was aimed directly at the tear in the ship's flank. Then he brought the old carrier forward, slowly and steadily, meticulously aiming so the points of the runway's spearhead supports would scrape the metal just below the gap.

We left the observation deck and plan to use the Strikeflier's scarred pontoons to board in the dust and proceeded to dash through the Strikeflier's few hallways and into the hanger.

Once there, Takar hit the manual control for opening and closing the hanger doors on the bridge.

Somra showed her eagerness by running straight out the instant the doors opened, ignoring the fact that the rest of us were supposed to be keeping up with her. Then she seemed to remember just as she reached the edge. There Somra stopped short and gestured at the gap just as I came up beside her.

"Well?" she invited, with another gesture. "Do you want to go first?"

"Hoe do I know you won't just try and slip me up so I fall into the sky?" I replied sarcastically.

"Stop it, you two," Fearon demanded as he arrived behind us. "We aren't doing this for fun."

I sighed. "I know." Then I jumped.

The sloped floor nearly pitched me forward and off my feet. I stopped myself from falling flat on my face by windmilling my arms and taking a hasty step back. Somra laughed into her hand as she landed with grace next to me, comparable to a cat.

I scowled at her. "That wasn't funny."

"Beg to differ," Somra replied, making no effort to hide her amusement. "You looked like a tree that was just chopped in half."

"And you looked like a fucking house cat."

"At least that didn't make me look like a fool."

"Touche," I grumbled.

The inside of the cargo freighter looked like all hell had broken loose when we saw the damage up close. Gashes marked the walls like the claw marks of a savage beast, paired with scattered scorch marks. Crew members lay everywhere, but in the dimness it was difficult to tell if they were simply unconscious or dead. Others, the larger and more burly ones by observation, were so still that there was no doubt they weren't alive. The detail was emphasized by the blood glistening darkly on their skin. All of the doors were broken down and dented, the locks melted. Blood coated the floor. I couldn't see it well but I could smell it, the coppery aroma drifting through the air like smoke after a fire.

Fearon emitted a low whistle. Rahk wrinkled his nose. Somra trailed a finger in one of the blood streaks, sniffing at it before wiping her finger on her pants.

"Well, I guess it really wasn't the pilot's fault," I relented, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet corridor. Rahk knelt by one of the unconscious guys and and felt around his neck. "There's a pulse," he said, intrigue in his voice. "I wonder why some of the crew members were killed and some weren't."

"Some of these guys probably weren't worth the effort to the attackers," Fearon muttered darkly.

I glanced back at him uneasily. In the dim blue light of his ignited sword, His features looked shadowed and burdened. His tone almost sounded like self loathing, but the way he locked his jaw made it clear he wasn't going to tell us how he had gotten the thought. It made me feel very uncomfortable, like I was teetering on the edge of a precipice that dropped off into a world of secrets I was better of not knowing about.

"The attackers did a pretty bad job, didn't they?" I commented, carefully edging past one of the dead crew members. I shivered when my toes accidentally brushed against his cooling, but still warm skin. Images from a zombie movie flickered in the back of my head, and I couldn't help but think this was the perfect setting for one.

"They didn't leave any specific traces," Fearon informed us, beginning to advance through the hallway. "No insignia, no weapons, nothing that could be used to track them. We'll inform the nearest city to send medical help as soon as we can, but for now be very careful. Whoever did this could still be here."

A groaning noise resounded throughout the ship's structure, ringing through the empty space as beams and walls creaked with strain. I flinched as the noise grated on my sensitive ears.

"Maybe there's some kind of monster in here?" I wasn't asking a serious question, but at the same time I kinda wanted some kind of reassurance, and felt as if I needed to lighten the mood. It surprised me when a few halfhearted laughs came from the others. I felt a wane smile on my lips.

"That's another thing to look out for, actually," Rahk murmured quietly. "I'm not a ship expert like Takar, but it's not hard to figure out that the structure of the ship is probably compromised. Things could fall on us, heavy things."

My mouth formed into a tentative 'o' shape. I became acutely aware of the thousands of pounds of metal around us. I could imagine the airship crashing in on itself, and taking us with it, all too easily. I swallowed nervously.

**Somra**

Quite frankly, you should never let Rahk talk about just how dangerous a situation can be. Sometimes knowing things just doesn't make you feel any better.

My skin was prickling with heat under my scales, and I instinctively gripped my spear shaft harder. "Thank you so much for that information," I growled, not sounding thankful at all. Rahk shrugged and crossed his arms. "Only warned you because I care about your ass, you know."

I snorted disbelievingly.

It was unnerving to me when I heard Fearon talk earlier about the methods of the ones who'd attacked this ship. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about far too well, and it was gnawing at me like a insistent little parasite trying to burrow into the insides of my brain. Obviously I wasn't going to forget about it-at least not until something else happened to shove it out of mind.

"Okay," Fearon muttered from just ahead of me. "We should probably split up and find out what this ship was carrying. It's to difficult to travel as a full group with the ship leaning so far to the right."

He had a good point there. The ship's angle meant we were basically trying to walk on a nearly horizontal slant, and with the four of us there at the moment, space was crammed. Besides, if we weren't alone we wouldn't make easy targets for an attacker. Depending on whether they were still here, of course.

In the end me and Fearon split us up into two groups of two-me and him in one, Rahk and Lehvahk in the other. We began to search, but all we found still mainly compromised of more bloody battle scenes, more wrecked cargo boxes that were now empty, and more fallen beams. We were eventually by the bridge of the freighter when I couldn't fight the urge to say something anymore.

"This place doesn't look any more encouraging now than it did before," I said with forced casualness. Fearon moved to respond, but then more groaning noises sounded above us, and he whipped around and barreled into me, slamming us both against the wall just in time to avoid a falling support girder. It plunged into the floor where I had been a moment before, sinking through almost hallway and sticking there like a slightly lopsided needle stuck in a flat pincushion.

We remained leaning against the wall for a moment. At first I was only aware of my heart, pounding wildly against my chest like a trapped animal from shock. Then I became aware of the decidedly awkward situation we were in. Fearon's arm was wrapped around my side, and he was pressed close to me.

In the dim blue light of Fearon's ignited blade, I saw his neon yellow eyes widen, and I hoped frantically that he hadn't seen my dumbstruck expression. He abruptly withdrew his arm and I backed away from him, scooping my spear up from the ground were it had fallen. We just stood there for a awkward minute, avoiding eye contact.

"Thanks," I said evenly, somehow managing to sound as if nothing had happened in the last minute or two. The entire thing had stirred something within me, a unidentified something that lay in an unfamiliar territory that I was too nervous to explore.

Fearon shrugged stiffly. "No problem," he muttered, holding his sword toward the thing that had nearly killed me.

It crossed my mind that I really wasn't being grateful enough. I could have been killed instantly, or suffered a life threatening injury that would have fucked me up for the rest of my life. But I didn't know what else to say to Fearon besides the simple word I had just uttered. He didn't seem keen on picking at the subject any further, for which I was grateful.

Nothing changed during the course of the next few minutes. Fearon tactfully avoided eye contact with me as we surveyed the damage. It seemed to get even worse the closer we got to the bridge. On a scale of minimal damage to immense damage, we were getting pretty close to immense.

The bridge was a mess of immobile bodies and torn circuitry and pipes. Steam hissed from them, filling the air with a white smog, making everything look obscured and fuzzy. It wasn't unlike the bars I often went to enjoy a drink, when we had the money for it. I love bars, especially the ones we went to, where you could bargain your way into getting drinks for free...

Anyway, back to what we were doing.

I was immediately enthralled by the people rather than what could be in the debris. I had never seen dead people before, and I couldn't help but inspect the bodies to see how they had met their ends. The majority of the killing blows seemed to be fairly neat rather than gruesome, composing of broken necks and single slashes in the throat.

I was wondering how I could use this kind of thing without actually killing when Fearon came up behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I found something." The worry in his tone instantly caught my attention. "And everyone, including you, should probably see it."

I took the hint and followed him to the left wall of the ship. A bent sword had been stabbed into the wall, a ragged piece of parchment pinned there. Fearon tore the note off the wall and read it aloud. "By the time anyone finds this ship, it will be to late to stop us. You all will suffer for the next few crappy days of your life. The artifact taken from here is far more useful in the hands of our current employer than in some museum where it will simply be gawked at."

Fearon finished the note and crushed it in his fist. "Not to revealing, but it's a note left by a bounty hunter without doubt."

"How do you figure that?"

"This is the exact kind of arrogant crap that they would be expected to leave behind," Fearon muttered in response. "It still doesn't tell us who they are exactly, though. There are plenty of bounty hunters out there."

I looked at the floor, frustrated that we still had too little information. I saw a pile of disarrayed books out of the corner of my eye and turned toward them, kneeling and shifting through them, inspecting them more closely. Fearon looked over my shoulder. "Log books," he concluded.

"Obviously," I said with a eye roll. I located one book that looked like it had been hastily handled and then roughly thrown aside, halfway ripping some of the pages and crinkling the paper.

I picked up the log book and opened it to said pages. One was smeared and dirty from something that took a moment to place, but I sniffed the page and identified it soon enough. A bloody finger had pointed at certain places on the page. Despite the smearing, it was still readable.

"The artifact known as Ayres the Timekeeper is to be shipped from the libraries of the Afrisian capital Tal'mar to the Ta-Thoros International Museum in Deltora," I read the chart aloud, as Fearon had with the note. "To arrive in a span of three or four days."

Fearon frowned. "From the dates on this page, it looks like this freighter was already a few days late. As for whatever that artifact is, I have no idea. I've always avoided museums."

I laughed hard, holding my stomach. "Why, do you have a phobia against them?"

Fearon playfully elbowed me, a smile on his lips nonetheless. "I'm not afraid of museums, they've just always been to damn boring for me."

The element of peace didn't last. The faint sound of blaster fire resounded through the air and right through the shattered windshield window, as startling as a gunshot right by my ear. I was on my feet in an instant, my teeth bared and hand on my weapon. I growled, eyes fixated on the window as Fearon stood from his crouch. He tore the page from the log book and stuffed it securely in his pocket.

We raced back along the slanted halls of the freighter, hearts pounding. My mouth tasted unpleasantly like lead, my head racing with battle scenarios.

The radio Fearon had clipped to his belt suddenly crackled to life. "Everyone get their asses here _now_!"

If it were any other situation, that would have been a open invitation to start arguing with Takar, but more energy blasts sounded and it was obvious we didn't have the time. We reached the gap in the side of the freighter that we had entered through and jumped the short gap onto the runway. We ended up falling onto our backs when the Strikeflier suddenly started moving backward, then banked so it was aimed away from the shipwreck. The carrier then rapidly accelerated, leading us to run into the hanger bay amid the howling of wind shear. We breathed easier when we saw that both Rahk and Lehvahk were there, holding on to the rails by the hanger wall. We did the same opposite from them, and I took comfort in the touch of the cold metal on my palm.

Then the Strikeflier tilted sharply sideways as another blast sounded behind us. Once it had leveled out once more, we made for the bridge, occasionally using the hallway wall rails whenever the Strikeflier performed a sharp maneuver.

I made it to the bridge first and snagged the periscope, swiveling it back to look behind us. What I saw was a carrier ship that must have been at least three times bigger than the Strikeflier, the pontoons lined with sharp protruding blades and the tops lined with blasters. The most notable thing was a massive spearlike tip that stuck right from under the ship's runway like the ship was a giant metal swordfish. Clearly those bastards had been the ones who had ripped the freighter open, because there were definitely no other aircraft with enormous metal rending spikes around here. A swarm of skimmers flanked the carrier.

Takar cursed savagely when several energy blasts were fired at us. "Back off, fucking bastards!" he shouted with a insane amount of vigor, eyes burning with anger.

"You know they can't hear you, right?" Lehvahk chuckled. Instead of yelling at him, Takar switched on the Strikeflier's radio and shouted through it, "Fuck off, you damned bastards!"

Takar shot a satisfied glare back at Lehvahk.

"Okay, so now they can hear you," Lehvahk amended weakly.

I rolled my eyes. "Get some backbone. Whoever these guys are, they deserved to be served a nice platter of crap."

"Oh, did we?"

The voice was static ridden, like everything was on the Strikeflier's old radio. It was female, but I could still hear malevolence and temper in it, rough as if the owner had been eating gravel. Along with the malevolence was a infuriating sarcasm.

"Who is this?" Fearon demanded sharply, striding over to the radio and fixating it with a intense glare like the person on the other end would actually feel it. Takar scowled, probably not happy that this mystery person had counteracted his previous action.

A deranged sounding chuckle drew my attention back to the radio. "So naive. But, you see, you have discovered too much. Too soon. That..and we want some sport."

The radio communication went dead.

"I guess she wants to play," Lehvahk said lightly, loading a crystal into his bow. He looked a little rattled, but he was actually managing to look rather intimidating, with his cocky grin still in place and his stance relaxed. I had to admit I was a little impressed.

"Yeah," Fearon's voice was low and sure. His yellow eyes were somewhat frightening, all emotion wiped form them and replaced with nothing but cold and hard determination. He slid his hand onto one of his weapons. "We won't be able to beat that many fighters, though. Better to hit and run."

Rahk nodded slowly. "I know what you have in mind. I'll tell Takar."

"I have your distraction," I announced cheerfully. I ran back to my room and was back in the hanger in no time, holding a bomb just bigger than my hand. "This will do it."

"How?"

"You'll see," I answered with a grim smile.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

We went down to the hanger and mounted our skimmers. Except this time, it was for battle. Not a practice flight, not for fun.

The hanger doors slid open, the wind gushing in and ruffling our hair and clothes. My stomach felt tingly as if I was in free fall, but my mind was oddly clear. I had narrowed my goals down to a few simple things: maim and incapacitate.

Fearon still looked unmoved by the prospect of battle. Somehow I got the feeling he had seen it before, and the way he fought did mirror pre experience before the Sky Knight Academy. But this wasn't the time to ask about it.

Of all of us, Rahk looked the most nervous. He had never seen himself as a fighter, and was likely remembering what we had seen on the freighter airship.

"I'm starting to wish I had volunteered to stay and fire the Strikeflier's cannons," he muttered.

I clapped him on the shoulder. "What would Scout have to do during battle, then?"

Rahk gave me a slight grin.

"Alright," Fearon said quietly, turning to look at us over his shoulder. "Ready?"

I grinned widely. "Beyond doubt," I responded.

Rahk seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then squared his shoulders and sat far straighter. "Ready," he said evenly.

Fearon's mouth twitched into the kind of invigorating smile that all leaders seem to have, the smile that makes you want to follow them to the ends of the world and back no matter what. "Let's go, then."

His Ultra roared to life and he was off into the clouds. I gunned after him, my Slip Wing riding the air currents as if the vehicle was part of the wind itself. I heard Lehvahk whoop loudly behind me, covering his nervousness with it.

I pivoted my skimmer about and faced the oncoming mob. With my sharp eyesight, I was able to discern that the enemy skimmers were all battered and mismatched, a black icon on the wings that I couldn't make out. The riders were all wild eyed and ragged in appearance, holding wickedly sharp weapons. A open challenge.

I delighted in challenge. It didn't faze me that I was thousands of feet above land, or that a single wrong move could mean a bone crushing death or injury.

I wanted to see the bitches hurt.

**Things are heating up...**

**Please review. **

**~dharak**


	4. hit and run

**I don't own Storm Hawks, the Deltora books, or any names from Bionicle. **

_**I will warn readers that this chapter contains violent battle gore.**_

_**Reminder about racial appearances:**_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Lehvahk's POV**

The instant we left the hanger, a flurry of deadly activity reined. Looking about, I spotted the others beginning to engage in their own battles, and Rahk swerving and dodging energy blasts and enemy skimmers so he could get close enough to the other ship to set off the distraction.

I didn't get to watch his progress any longer, as the ragged minions had just noticed me. A round of energy blasts were fired at me, and I whipped out my rifle. I managed to cancel out a few with my own shots, but I had to pull a fast dive to avoid the last few.

Twisting my neck to look at my enemy, I glimpsed one holding a machine fun, the source of the shots. The other held a spear, and he was now diving at me with the weapon raised.

Rather than taking him out, I swiftly shot the engine of the skimmer bearing the foe holding the gun with a round of several crystal shards. He went down, and didn't bother to shoot at me in the midst of his panic. Then I sent my skimmer into a sideways roll, which turned into a dive. I flew a wide arch around the spear bearer, at the same time letting loose a couple shots.

This guy was better at anticipating the attack than his friend. He used the spear to deflect many of the shots, much to my annoyance. But in doing so...

I smiled. _He revealed to me a perfect shot. _

The foe's arm was still raised from blocking the attack. He was distracted.

The trigger of my rifle was pressed, the ring and smoke of the projectile heralding the shard sounded, and the projectile flew straight and true, hitting the bounty hunter just were his arm met his body.

Instantly he dropped the spear and clutched at the injury with a howl. Another round of shots took out his ride, and then I was on my way again, looking out for other attacks. I'd been told to keep near the Strikeflier-within reason, at least. The ship wasn't necessarily staying still, but swopping and weaving around cannon fire from the other carrier ship. Takar seemed to be keeping his distance, so Rahk would have room for a distraction.

Once again I heard the sound of shots and instinctively whipped my head around, looking wildly for the source. It turned out that they weren't aimed at me at all, but rather at Rahk. But it turned out to be a good thing I looked, as I was able to glimpse a attacker dropping down on me from above, his skimmer's noise obscured by the calamity of sound all around us. A second rider came roaring up next to him, both holding swords.

A quick look around convinced me that a defensive maneuver would be the better move here then a attack.

I barrel rolled as one of the enemies drew up beside me and swung his sword. The weapon scraped against the upper wing of skimmer, and before he had another chance to strike I shed some altitude, then swerved a little to the left. The entire maneuver took only a few seconds, and I wound up directly under the foe's sky ride.

I gained a cocky grin, then snapped a rack of magma crystal bullets into my rifle. Then I fired at the engine of the skimmer from beneath in one smooth motion. In the instant it took for the projectile to bore through the metal and into the engine, I had already banked away to a safe distance, slinging my rifle strap securely under my arm and over my shoulder again. What I failed to notice was that the enemy had made one last ditch move and set the crashing skimmer to careen at decimated engine smoking.

The lower wing slammed into the side of my head. Dizzy and disoriented, I accidentally loosened my grip on the controls of the skimmer. I had just enough sense to lock them so the skimmer would hover in place before I fell off. Then my fingers somehow made their way to the parachute release and it puffed up above me.

Mind still clouded by the blow, I watched in a kind of childish fascination as clouds and skimmers seemed to float through my line of sight, thinking of how it would be to touch the clouds...

**Somra's POV**

I was enjoying myself.

So far I had struck down several enemies, most that had put up no fight at all. Afterward, though, they started being a bit more of a challenge.

My first example was when I was presented with a foe bearing a longsword. He swung it in wild, ungraceful swings, but the time between them was little and the swipes were fast. I had to duck and twist in the seat of my ride to avoid incapacitation. Naturally this proved to be a opening for a second enemy to try ambushing me from above.

_They'll regret that decision._

I ducked a longsword swing and tensed when I heard the rushing of air that heralded a second enemy. Fast as my reflexes would allow I lashed out with my spear, timing the strike to strike at the current enemy's chest just as he completed a swing with his sword.

The glowing blue point struck his chest. There was a single scream as I tore the barbed tip of my weapon out, then twirled my weapon once and plunged my spear into the engine of the other foe. Then I had pulled my Slip Wing into a loop and dive away from the scene as the two rides collided, sending both of my enemies falling downward. I heightened the damage by unclipping most of my explosives and priming them to explode, leaving one still on my belt. I threw the bundle into a oncoming bunch of enemy skimmers and was rewarded with sky rides falling and trailing black smoke, and frustrated riders floating down with parachutes.

"Only a few more to go," I muttered. We had succeeded in thinning the flock of enemies enough for Rahk to get through-at least I hoped we had.

I was just turning to check on the progress of said crystal specialist when I heard a wild laugh of terrible elation. I sharpy banked right when another skimmer plunged at me from the left. The parts had obviously come from several rides, since they all looked different in some way, whether it was color or damage level.

The rider was a female Blizzarian with a purplish red tint to her fur. It was a unnatural color, one that made my teeth bare in an instinctual growl of distaste. Both her ears were ragged and pierced with animal teeth, and the grin and look in her yellow eyes was something that I felt bordered on insanity. I didn't like her already-and it would get worse soon enough.

"Who are you?" she called up mockingly, the savage grin becoming tinted with a demeaning look. "A little snake who decided to crawl out of her dismal hole?"

I sneered at her, fury boiling my blood at the racial insult the dirty bitch had directed at me. My knuckles went white as I tightened my grip on my spear shaft. "What I see is a fucker and nameless scavenger. Where you raised by actual wolves, or just by savages?"

She hunched her shoulders and growled back, yellow eyes flashing. "Name's Lieja. And you're gonna be my first target of the day."

"Go ahead!" I invited mockingly, raising my spear high and bearing my fangs. "You won't have an easy fight with me."

Lieja's face morphed into a mask of creases and teeth. She charged at me on her ride, and the first stage of out fight began. It was a aerial exchange, consisting of circling and quick passes, during which the wings on our rides would scrape together and spark, and we would each try to land a blow with our spear. We either succeeded in blocks or

The tentative dance continued for a few moments longer. Then Lieja let out a frustrated caterwaul and bent over the controls of her skimmer. A feverish gleam lit her eyes as she urged the ride into full throttle.

I didn't realize she was aiming right at me until it was nearly too late to avoid bad damage to my Slip Wing. I swerved left, then chipped off altitude, hoping to lose her.

Lieja turned out to have much faster instincts than I had credited her with. A split second before I made my turn, she had turned in the same direction. I heard a clatter and glanced at the wing of my skimmer. I caught a glimpse of a rope and hook, but that was all I needed to see to predict Lieja's upcoming move.

The bounty hunter yanked on the rope, propelling her skimmer into mine. A wrenching screech sounded as the spiked wings of the Blizzarian's skimmer raked against those of my Slip Wing and remained locked there.

I swore, but then accepted reality and made myself battle ready. I climbed out of my skimmer's eat and onto the left wing when I heard the scratching of Blizzarian claws on the right wing.

Lieja glared daggers at me, probably because she had been hoping to fight me hampered by a position in my skimmer seat. I smirked. Obviously that wasn't a option anymore. The vibrations of the skimmer engines could be felt through the leather wrappings around my feet, a slightly reassuring undertone that assured me there was a solid surface to use when Lieja choose to attack.

And attack she did. Completely ignoring safety, Lieja leaped straight from the right wing of my ride and landed balanced accurately on the seat. She raised a heavy looking javelin and thrust it at my chest.

I blocked it with the shaft of my spear, and felt the repercussions of impact run through my lower arms and jar my shoulders. Lieja withdrew the javelin and then swung it at my head, prompting me to duck. I struck at her leg with my spear, and the tip plunged into her thigh. She yowled as blood started to flow, then lashed out with a kick. I jolted back in hopes of avoiding the blow, but the claws of her hind foot cut three shallow gashes on my cheek. I stood fully just in time to stop what would have been a KO blow to the head.

I was still straining to hold the javelin back when it happened. Both me and Lieja were deadlocked, weapon shafts braced together and narrowed eyes studying the face of their foe, wondering what they would do next. Who would act first to break the stalemate.

Turned out I would be forced to make the first decision. The shadow of a parachute was the first hint. Then Lieja's eyes flicking a little ways behind me, a wicked little smirk forming on her thin lips. Then she withdrew her javelin and fired a energy pulse at the thing behind me.

I turned my head enough to see a parachute falling away, then the brown form under it beginning to plummet. I whirled and then threw myself onto the end of the wing, snatching the back of Lehvahk's shirt with my left hand.

The problem-to keep a grip on the wing of my skimmer, I had to holster my spear. And that meant I was vulnerable.

It was the whistle of the approaching javelin that warned me of the danger. I flipped onto my side and then snapped my jaws shut on the shaft of Lieja's javelin. The weapon slid a few inches before it stopped, held tightly in my jaws.

Now, here's the thing. Rahkshi teeth are meant to rend meat, dead or alive. But a heavy metal javelin shaft that tasted like hand sweat, steel and grime is _not _the kind of thing my teeth are meant to bite. My teeth had protested when the shaft had first impacted on my teeth, and now hot pain was throbbing in my gums. The only good thing was, no teeth actually felt cracked. Bile began to rise in my throat. I felt I would need to clean my mouth out with steel brush.

Lieja snarled like a rabid dog and yanked on the javelin shaft while still keeping a hold on my free arm. In my left hand I felt Lehvahk beginning to snap out of his daze. That was both good and bad news-good because it meant he wasn't hurt very much, bad because he could start panicking from shock and make himself more of a hindrance.

Lieja yanked again, and I clamped my jaws down harder on the shaft. The tops of my teeth ground against it uncomfortably.

I flattened my ears and growled. Then a sudden explosion of fury erupted in my head, and my heartbeat began to roar in my ears. I was not going to let some damn pathetic rogue pin me down like a bug on an inspection table.

I released the skimmer wing and grabbed Lieja's wrist. Before I could react, I twisted her arm in a direction it definitely wasn't meant to go. She had no choice but to tear her hand away, and my Steel Claws went flashing up, digging into the side of her face and ripping forward. Three neat slashes appeared and immediately spouted blood. Payback for the three scratches she had inflicted on me.

My foe shrieked like a traumatized banshee. She slapped one hand to her cheek, and I took the chance to glance about my surroundings. I saw Fearon not too far away, fighting off two enemies. I knew it could be dangerous distracting him, but I didn't have much choice.

"Fearon!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. "You've got to get Lehvahk back to his skimmer!"

The second I saw him look at me with confusion laced on his features, I looked down at said Blizzarian with my signature glare. "I'm dropping you, get Fearon's attention."

Lehvahk nodded mutely. I let go of him, then grabbed Lieja's javelin shaft and tore it out of my mouth, ramming the heavy hilt into Lieja's side. Then I stood in a flash and landed a heavy punch into her ribs. Winded by the impact, Lieja briefly stumbled, holding her ribs and gasping to regain air.

I didn't waste time. My Steel Claws flashed, tearing into her ribs, and then I thrust my harpoon into her side, twisting it and mangling the muscle. I tore it out, the smell of copper filling my nose. Blood pounding in my ears, I kicked her heavily in the chest, sending her skittering back toward the end of my skimmer's upper wing. Lieja dug her clawed feet into my Slip Wing, hunching, and they grated scratches into the metal before stopping her just a few inches from oblivion. She snarled, stood straighter, saliva beginning to trickle in spidery ropes from her mouth. She jabbed with her javelin, and I raised my harpoon to deflect the blow.

I realized to late that it was a excellently performed feint. Her javelin tip speared my upper leg, and tore a long gash when I yanked my limb away from it. Lieja charged at me and her elbow slammed into the side of my head, applying a dizzying effect. She tried to spear my gut, but I deflected the blow of my gauntlet. I countered by sinking my Steel Claws into her upper arm.

At that point we were fighting like a pair of animals, clawing and biting and our weapons were everywhere, extensions of ourselves, blocking and sometimes scoring a blow. Everything beyond our little bubble faded to a dull roar, all my senses deviated to only one thing, my attacker.

Soon enough I knew I needed to end it.

I dug my Steel Claws into Lieja's thigh, ripping three wounds directly down the side of her leg. She let out a tortured yowl, then turned and threw herself across the controls of my Slip Wing, clawing her way onto her patched spiked skimmer. She cast a look of glaring vengeance at me, then cut the grappling line and took off on the skimmer, flying back toward the enemy carrier.

For a few moments I just stood there on the wing of my Slip Wing, breathing as if I had just run fifty miles and staring. I thought back to my confrontation with Lieja, about the pure savagery that had erupted between us.

A smirk of joy began to grow on my lips. Call me crazy, but I felt as if I had finally been challenged property. Now I felt that my true skills were unlocked.

I laughed gleefully, the sound lost in the din of battle. In retrospect, it was probably a laugh akin to a crazy person. I supposed I had been born temperamental just for fighting drive, then raised both my weapons and went charging back into battle. "I damn you to hell, losers!" I bellowed, decimating the closest enemy engine with my harpoon.

**Takar's POV**

I watched the others go barreling out into the sky dourly, none of them even caring about the risks. "I predict something will go wrong," I said to no one in particular, before I remembered that Scout was still in my presence.

"Rawk!" he glared at me in addition, making his opinion clear in his way.

I rolled my eyes in response. "Something will."

"Hrrar?" now the noise sounded skeptical, and Scout made a talking motion with his paws with a smirk on his lips.

"It's not weird to that I talk to myself!"

Before the bizarre debate went any further, a energy blast rang in my ears. The shot just missed the Strikeflier, but sharply reminded me of the situation we were in. I tilted the ship sharply left, causing a second blast from the enemy carrier to go wide. "Fucking bastards," I growled.

Narrowed eyes fixated on the sky through the thick glass of the window, I caught Scout's reflection in it, still were he had been before and looking uncertain. I heaved a sigh and called out to him in a sour voice, "_Someone_ back there could take charge of a deck cannon, maybe?"

Scout's eyes lit up. "Rarr!"

The sound was clear sign of his enthusiasm as the crimson visorak darted over and pushed on the left deck cannon. I could only hear what was going on, due to most of my attention being on the sky, but I heard the rush of wind and the creak of springs as the gunning deck was locked in position. Then I heard the sound of a deck cannon firing, and a purple bolt of energy sent a skimmer spiraling downward. Another swiftly followed.

I smiled grimly. _Maybe this could be a permanent arrangement. _

A round of blasts flew at us. I sent the Strikeflier into a vertical dive, pulled up, and then whipped the carrier sideways to that the pontoon rammed into one of the enemy rides. The sweet sound of the engine crunching like a tin can met my ears. A eerie smile growing on my lips, I set the Strikeflier in motion again. I heard the cannon fire three more times, and Scout's happy screeches as his shots collided. I banked right, then took the ship into a wide arch and pushed it to a higher speed.

The clouds whipped by in blurs. The enemy carrier fired at us, but the calculations of the gunners didn't seem to be fast enough. Most of the shots went wide, while those that didn't only grazed the roof or rudder. The bladelike points of the Strikeflier's pontoons managed to snag enemy skimmers and damage them, much to my satisfaction.

Still, the gunners on the enemy carrier were starting to get better with their aim. A couple of shots had now managed to hit the Strikeflier's pontoon. The ship's shielding had held them back, but they weren't the most reliable of the old carrier's systems-they were one of the worst, in fact. According to the pinging coming from the old statistic devices, the shields were already heavily damaged.

"Crap," I growled. I veered left, then had to pull the Strikeflier into a nearly vertical rise to avoid another round of fire.

"Rawk!"

"Yeah," I muttered. "Better start firing on that monster of a carrier-and hope the distraction works."

**Fearon** **POV**

After I deposited Lehvahk back on his ride, I caught a glimpse of Somra and Lieja's fight. It alarmed me to see how Somra was fighting like an unleashed, ferocious beast. She hardly looked sentient. It didn't help that I caught a gleam of red on her teeth-which was probably blood.

I didn't have long to remain alarmed or see the outcome. A blade came at me, and I blocked it, slamming the hilt of my sword into the enemy's temple. He slumped over, out cold, and I shredded his engine. As he went spiraling away, I went into a nosedive, whipping past another foe and bringing my sword down in a blue arch, chopping the wings of his ride. Then I caught another opponent in the ribs with a powerful roundhouse kick as he tried to come up beside me with a war hammer. When he keeled over in pain from a couple broken ribs, I sheathed one of my swords, grabbed the hammer from him and threw it at the engine of an enemy skimmer below me. The engine covering crumpled like aluminum foil and down he went. I punched the guy I'd taken the hammer from square in the mouth, then clubbed him over the head with the flat of my sword. His skimmer went out of control, crashing into one of his allies and sending them both floating downward. I shifted my ride to land mode when two skimmers appeared right next to me, and my ride fell a few feet before I flipped back to aerial mode and corkscrewed in midair, flying straight at the two foes from behind. I heard solid skulls collide with metal, knocking both of them out by hitting them with my red Air Skimmer's wings. Yet another opponent dropped from the clouds, this one attempting to ram his skimmer into mine. Instead, I cut some attitude and his lower wing clanged on my top one. I tilted my skimmer at an angle and deflected his blade when he attacked me. This guy had the sense to divert one of my swords when I tried to hit him with it, angling his own sword to block it. I withdrew my weapons and feinted a strike, and the bounty hunter lackey tried to block. Before he realized he'd been tricked I landed my fist on his collarbone. He choked a little, and within those few precious seconds I slammed my sword point first into the engine of his ride. I banked away from him as the machine spluttered black smoke and listed downward.

Until now I was getting the idea this would be an easy hit and run fight, that Rahk would be able to set off the distraction with no trouble. Turns out I was plenty wrong.

The roar of a skimmer, much louder and harsher than the others so far, came ringing from directly above me. I tilted my skimmer sharply to the right, letting the blur of red zoom past me. Then the blur was back, ramming into my Ultra, spikes grating against the side as the wings locked with mine and our rides hovered in place. I was thrown forward by the force of the hit, but managed to keep myself in the seat and raise my swords above my head in a protective x when I heard the whistling of an approaching weapon.

The impact was jarring, almost as if a boulder had come down on me. My nerves tingled as waves of force resounded from my blades down my arms. I angled my head to get a good look at my new enemy.

The first thing I saw was the curved, jagged blade that had met mine. It flared red, and even in the sunlight bathed the wielder's face in a ghastly light. The face itself was draconic, with a long narrow snout that held twin rows of leering, jagged teeth.

The red dragon was female, I could tell that from the slim stature, but obviously a fearful combatant. At least, if the force of the impact of her sword against my blades was anything to go by. Her spiked armor made a jagged outline against the glare of the sun, her powerful bowed legs gripping the seat of her skimmer. The absence of wings marked her as belonging to one of the smaller, more human dragon races. Even so, I estimated her height to be close to seven feet.

The yellow eyes of the dragon gleamed a fiery orange in the light of her sword. Her tongue darted out once, then withdrew with a hiss. The cold glare made the chill air of higher altitudes seem even colder, but I still wasn't anywhere near intimidated.

With one quick twist I sent the sword of to the side and then struck at the wingless dragon's middle with both blades. Before I knew it, however, the dragon's sword had flashed back into my range of vision and deflected the blow.

"Well, that's new," I commented, making sure the crimson dragon could hear me over the wind shear. "Most of your friends are damn awful fighters." I locked eyes with her, and didn't miss the flare of anger growing there. I felt my shoulders tense in anticipation of another attempt to attack.

Instead the dragon barked out a harsh peal of laughter. "Friends. They aren't my friends, but nameless servants. They fear me-even the sound of my name."

"Which is?" I responded nonchalantly.

"Nakari," she snarled back, raising her blade. "And you're a fresh brat who decided to play hero."

She lunged forward and brought the sword down in a arch. I ducked under it and swung my own sword, nearly cutting Nakari's stomach. She twisted sideways with a serpentine movement and then tried to ram her sword into my chest.

I leaned left, and felt a burning sting as the edge of the scimitar cut the top of my shoulder. Ignoring both that and the warm trails of blood, I angled my sword and aimed a jab at a spot just under Nakari's rib cage.

She reacted as predicted and blocked it, without realizing that my other blade was on it's way even as the two swords clanged together in a shower of sparks. The glowing blue blade sank halfway into Nakari's right shoulder.

She uttered a bloodcurdling burst of oaths, then wrenched her shoulder free. The bounty hunter leader then repeated her earlier action, but as I moved to block it she abruptly changed the direction of the strike. With one quick slash I felt the sting of her weapon cutting a wound in my side. She then raised her sword as if to slice off the wings of my skimmer, but as I blocked the blow I felt the bruising impact of a fist on the side of my jaw.

I shook my head to clear it, then made a quick movement with my sword. Hitching the tip onto the hilt of Nakari's weapon, I sent the scimitar flying from her grasp.

Then Nakari did something utterly shocking. She stood and jumped toward her scimitar just as it fell past her ride, effectively causing my next strike to miss. I watched wide eyed, wondering just what had happened. Then a sharp screeching sound of talons on metal jolted me back to reality, and I saw red dragon fingers and gray claws gripping the wing of my foe's ride.

I wiped my the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing the trail of blood from the split lip onto my wrist. Ignoring it, I scrambled from the seat of my skimmer and onto the wing of Nakari's, reasoning this would be a good time to end the fight. I was just raising my sword to shred the engine when a powerful kick slammed into my back.

I was knocked back across the opposite wing of Nakari's skimmer. For a moment I had to fumble for handholds as I found myself slamming into the dashboard of my own ride. I felt the controls dig into my shoulder blade, causing the locked skimmers to pitch downward. Hastily I sheathed my left hand sword and managed to put the skimmers back in hover. Seeing a flash of red, I raised right sword and blocked Nakari's as it came down at me. I spotted her leering grin out of the corner of my eye, and sent her a scowl in return.

"Did you honestly think that I would make a decision like that if it had a shitty outcome?" she sneered, raising her foot again.

I responded by driving my sword into her foot. Nakari roared and snatched it way, even as I used the chance to stand astride the wing of my red Air Skimmer. "I guess you wouldn't, bitch," I spat.

Her eyes flashed gaudily. She lunged again.

I raised my blades so they could say hello to her-in a not so friendly way.

**Rahk's POV**

Paying no attention to the chaos that had enveloped me the instant we had left the hanger, I aimed my re purposed Switchblade in as straight a path as possible, performing rolls and sharp turns to avoid collisions and then veering back onto my desired course again. At first the bounty hunters paid no attention to me, perhaps thinking from my skimmer model that I was with them. The advantage was lost when they got a good look at the wolf head insignia on the wing of my ride. Instantaneously, like a hive mind, they all were alerted to the presence of a enemy flying right toward their carrier.

The harsh hurr of a engine approached, the rider hurling a javelin. I dipped my skimmer sideways and then let it drop lower, letting the thrown weapon miss. My staff currently held two crystals-a firebolt on one end, and a lightstone on the other. I pulled hard on my Switchblade's controls, and then rose higher, ending up directly next to the enemy. He looked at me with a startled expression and fumbled for another weapon even as I swung my staff.

The lightstone produced a massive flare of white light right in the bounty hunter's face. He let out a hoarse shout and blindly waved his hands about, momentarily blinded. I took the chance to twirl my staff around and point the firebolt end at the engine. Red energy shot out in a narrow crackling beam, and the engine went up in smoke.

I barrel rolled as a round of crystal bolts were fired at me, then pivoted my Switchblade sharply and in a instant was flying in the attacker's direction. Before he could react I had dashed past him, skimmer angling nearly sideways. My staff collided solidly with his temple on the way. I made another pass and this time stabbed the firebolt end of my staff into the engine, then tore it out and continued on my way. Ignoring the high wail of gravity claiming the downed skimmer, I fixed my eyes on a spot about twenty yards in front of the enemy carrier.

I was a few yards from said spot when a hooded figure charged at me on a black skimmer that looked like a looted Air Skimmer. The figure was a male Blizzarian, that I could tell from the body shape. But the reason for the hood evaded me, as it cast his face in deep shadow.

I banked left as the approaching foe swung his curved sword. The glowing yellow blade scratched the wing of my skimmer, but before further harm could be done I was out of reach, regarding him warily.

The hooded figure uttered a hoarse laugh. Even across the distance between us and through the whipping of the wind, it somehow resounded clearly. A chill ran down my spine when I realized that the voice sounded familiar.

_Who is he?_

I didn't have time to finish the thought. The hooded Blizzarian reached behind him and then whipped a boomerang at me.

Swinging my staff in retaliation, I deflected the weapon. The jolt jarred it, sending rough vibrations into the palms of my hands. There were sparks as the two weapons met. The bounty hunter hardly reacted, even as the boomerang spun back toward him. Effortlessly he caught it with one hand. Even though I couldn't see his eyes, I felt they were focused on me the whole time.

I felt tempted to ask him who he was, but I didn't get a chance as I comprehended I was in the spot necessary to set off the distraction.

The hooded bounty hunter raised his arm to hurl the boomerang again, while my own arm raised to throw Somra's special bomb. The round capsule felt rough and scratchy beneath my fingers.

I threw the bomb. He hurled the boomerang, and the thrown weapon clanged against the bomb. I thrust on my ride's controls, and my Switchblade leaped forward, roaring past the hooded Blizzarian. I ducked as I passed him, avoiding his sword blade as he tried to slice my head off. Then I carried on in the direction of the Strikeflier.

There was a massive, ringing boom as the bomb went off. A cloud of black smoke billowed from it, encompassing the entire battlefield. Knowing that the wind would make quick work of it, I focused entirely on the outline of the Strikeflier and the purple energy flare from it's engines. Through the smoke I made out three other figures on beelines for the hanger, and we all converged on the narrow runway.

The instant we had made it through the hanger doors, they slammed shut with a resounding clang and the Strikeflier lurched into motion, tilting sharply and banking before taking off at full speed. With much cursing we got our skimmers sorted out, then ran up onto the bridge, even as we left our enemies behind.

Yet, the thrill of the escape was tampered by new questions.

**Normal Pov**

Nakari was seething-not a good sign for Lieja or the hooded Blizzarian with the boomerang.

Bloody and lacerated, many of her clothes ripped to rags, Lieja flinched when her leader's burning gaze was centered on her. "Insufferable," the red dragon said in a calm, low voice that contrasted radically with the fury in her eyes. It also served to make her two comrades feel fear growing in their guts. "That a group of children beat us." The bounty hunter leader's voice took on a more thoughtful tone. "They were unusual foes." Then she turned away from her commanders to stare out the ship window.

"We should go after them, then," the hooded Blizzarian's voice was a low growl.

Nakari didn't bother to turn and look at him. Hands clasped behind her back, she stared through the glass of her damaged carrier into the horizon, even though the Strikeflier was long gone from her sight. "No, Keeliark. We will never catch up in time, and they will alert the Deltoran Sky Knight Council of what we stole. We will be better off preparing our defenses, and making rapid recovery from our wounds using some of my nil crystals." She fingered her side and Nakari's lip twitched in a slight grimace as the wound there twinged painfully in response.

"I want revenge!" Lieja's words were pitched high with irritation. She began to pace angrily, hands clenched into fists. "We should-"

"No, damn you!" This time Nakari's voice was so sharp it cut the air like a whip lash. Obviously her anger could not be contained any longer. Lieja cringed, and even Keeliark took a step back. "We prepare the defenses," Nakari hissed through gritted teeth. She cast a final, brooding look at the horizon. "Set course for Teresal," she snarled to the helmsman, who nodded in affirmation. Then the bounty hunter leader turned and stalked off the bridge. "I am going to rest."

Her eyes gleamed mercilessly. "I want to be in good health to greet our foes to our..._fine home."_

Nakari's mirthless laugh rang after her through the halls of the carrier as it flew off through the darkening sky, making for the bounty hunter's base-Teresal Isle.

**Hmmm...Rahk seems to feel Keeliark is familiar...i wonder if that intrigued anyone?**

**Reviews are a writer's motivation. I like feedback :D**

**~dharak**


	5. decisions

**Fearon's POV**

The high whine of the Strikeflier's engines working at full speed vibrated through the metal walls as we entered the bridge again. Takar didn't even turn to look at us, his eyes fixated on the sky instead.

"You can stop now," Rahk said breathlessly, staring vacantly at the helmsman's straight back. "We're far enough from them."

Takar responded with a barely noticeable nod. His hand moved on the old carrier's controls, and the ship's breakneck speed decreased until it was hovering in place. Then he turned to face us so swiftly I took a step back in surprise. "You. All of you are injured. Get to the infirmary so I can deal with the wounds. And after that, change clothes."

I blinked and looked down at my ragged bloodstained shirt. I had stopped noticing the sad state of me and my teammate's clothes, but now that I had seen it I wanted nothing more than to change.

Lehavhk grimaced at Takar's curt instructions. "Remind me again why we chose a ass like you to be the medical person."

"I'm the only one who knows enough about such things to do it, that's why," Takar sneered back, tone ice cold. "Unless you want to get some shitty infection, you'd better cooperate."

"I'm sure that patients love you, good doctor," Lehvahk replied sarcastically.

Takar was glaring so hard at him now that I had no trouble imaging our sharpshooter bursting into flames. Somra was sniggering behind her hand, while Rahk looked on, then raised his eyes to the ceiling, most likely wondering how he managed to put up with these exchanges so much.

"You get to be the first one," he growled it out, temper radiating from him almost like heat waves. Somra started laughing openly, while Lehavhk looked at Takar in slight terror as the much taller kerion pilot navigated him toward the infirmary.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That was damn awesome," Lehvahk announced, falling loosely onto one of the couches and propping his feet on the table. He seemed to have forgotten about his bandaging experience in the infirmary, and Takar didn't seem to want to hound him about it. Rather, he was standing by the helm again, staring absently out the window. Scout climbed up the back of the couch and sat beside Lehvahk, and the two shared enthusiastic smiles. Lehvahk's was a little egotistical, but spread a contagious urge to smile to everyone else. Mine faded fairly fast, though, as I remembered the piece of bloodstained paper in my pocket. When I came across things that worried me, I would usually end up obsessing over them, and the bloody page from the log book was no exception.

"Bitches," Somra sneered, her eyes narrowed to slits. Even in the face of success, though, she still appeared to be seething about something. "I showed one bitch in particular just how much pain I could inflict."

"That's all very interesting," Takar drawled, leaning on the Strikeflier's battered dashboard. "But you do realize you could have forfeited your life?"

Somra responded with a cool snort.

"We have bigger concerns," I announced, my commanding tone cutting through any other distracting noises. I gained instant attention as I spoke, even from Lehavhk and Scout. "The bounty hunters took something besides normal pickings, that's for sure." I held up the bloody paper and handed it to Rahk. I winced slightly when the movement caused the bandaged wound on my side to twinge. Even with healing salves on it to allow quick healing, it hadn't quite closed yet. I continued to talk as Rahk unfolded the crumpled paper and studied it intently. "I didn't recognize the name."

"That's what we have Rahk for," Lehvahk joked, placing his arms behind his head. "He's our living encyclopedia."

I muffled a chuckle as Rahk let out a long suffering sigh. The running joke wasn't new, but Rahk had yet to call a halt to it. "Indeed I am. I do recognize the name in question. The artifact is Ayres the Timekeeper."

"That's old news to me and Fearon," Somra said dismissively.

"Not to everyone else," I reminded her, moving closer and bracing both hands on the back of the couch she was on, next to Somra's current position. "So they needed to be told."

"Meh, I don't give a damn," she replied, then asked her next question. "So what does it do, exactly, mr encyclopedia?"

Rahk's glare was heated, but soon changed into a thoughtful look. He opened his mouth to reply, only for Lehvahk to interrupt. "It's name should make it obvious, dumbass. It controls time."

"You pri-"

"Stop!" I shouted, clapping my hands together and glaring sternly at them. Both stopped talking and contented themselves with staring daggers at one another. I responded to Rahk's grateful look with a slight nod of my head and a wink.

"As I was about to say," Rahk continued, with a sharp warning glance at Somra and Lehvahk, "artifacts that involve time don't always work exactly as you would expect. Some do what most would think, directly control time. Ayres the Timekeeper isn't quite like that."

Takar raised a eyebrow skeptically. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a gateway into the past and future," Rahk responded, "but not many people know that. The world views it as a symbolic statue-it's never really been considered a magical artifact by anyone but the Afrisia and it's people."

"What did you expect?" Lehavhk commented, still in his relaxed position. "Afrisians are hell bent knowledge nuts."

Rahk's eyebrows drew together in a frown. "That's true. The Deltoran rulers probably didn't think heavy security was needed, but I think the Afrisians insisted."

I nodded in agreement, remembering some of the unconscious forms on the ship. At the time I hadn't paid much attention to the attire, but thinking back I was able to pinpoint what Rahk meant. "Some of the injured and dead on the ship had Afrisian guard armor on. I didn't notice then."

"Too interested in analyzing the situation?" Takar commented flatly.

I shrugged in response. "Something like that."

"Didn't help from what we saw," Somra remarked, inspecting her gray claws one by one.

"Yeah," Lehvahk said back, a little distractedly and sadly. Scout hurred sympathetically by his side.

I supposed he had been somewhat depressed by seeing so much death. It seemed most of us did save for me. Even Somra looked somewhat affected-although not by much.

I'd seen such things before, so I had a kind of immunity to it. Still I clenched one hand into a fist at the knowledge the shipwreck would trigger my nightmares.

"They didn't steal it for their use," I said slowly, not even realizing I had spoken aloud.

"Really?" Lehavhk frowned and removed his feet from the table. "What other reason would they have?"

"Many, but money's always the main focus," I responded, rubbing the back of my neck and gazing out the window as I thought. "Bounty hunters work for hire. The note me and Somra found mentioned a employer. Their leader left it as a gloat. She probably doesn't think we can narrow potential clients down enough to figure out her plan."

"Can you blame her?" Takar said flatly. He didn't seem keen to produce much enthusiasm-but then again, he never was. "There's a boundless list of possibilities."

"Not quite," I replied. "The employer wanted Ayres for the time travel power. They'd only do that if there were specific events they would like to alter. Criminal organizations wouldn't want to enlist bounty hunters." I hesitated momentarily, and to the others my gaze probably looked very far away. I felt Takar's prying gaze on me, but ingored it, even though it brought up thoughts on our conversation on the observation deck. "They have a rivalry, a very old and strong one at that."

"So what does that leave us with?" Somra grumbled. "Still nothing but some damn theories."

For a time the others debated on possibilities, most which seemed likely but not quite correct-at least not to me. I had been thinking in depth about the matter for some time, and the afternoon of thought paid off.

There was only one group that could benefit from traveling back in time. The one empire that was still at large among Amihawk's current times.

"Cyclonia."

I hadn't realized I'd spoken aloud until I noticed that everyone else was staring at me.

"Cyclonia?" Lehvahk repeated. "What makes you think that?"

"They're the only possibility that makes sense,'' I replied readily. "Their current situation isn't desirable, since they're losing to Atmos's Sky Knights again. They could change that by altering the past, and removing whatever factor is causing their losses now."

"True," Rahk said slowly, obviously still mulling over the information. "But it could still be someone else.'

"Cyclonia's a empire," I responded. "Even in war, it would have plenty of money-a lot more than any of the other criminal groups we've thought of. Afrisia's elite guards are damn amazing a nearly everything-fighting, tactics, anything else you can think of. The bounty hunters would need a shitload of payment to consider taking them on."

"So now we know the employer," Somra remarked, still inspecting her claws. "And we know that whatever they plan to do, I won't be good for anyone but them. Which means...what now?"

I carefully bit my lip and looked out the window. I had been anticipating the question and formed a answer, even though I didn't like it. "We tell the Council."

"And hope they believe us?" Takar asked flatly. "They don't seem to like taking news from teenagers that seriously."

"Maybe not," I answered, "but we still need to try."

**Somra's POV**

Not to second guess Fearon, but I didn't think that we would be able to convince the Council of anything. As Takar had remarked, they didn't seem to hold teenagers in high regard. The Sky Knight Council did end up believing us-but the action they designated to take wasn't all that cool with us.

"You can't wait that long!" Fearon's shout echoed alarmingly in the Council building. The head of the said Council stared sown at him from his pedestal with a impervious squint. His hand was clenched around his pen like he wanted to snap it.

"No Cyclonian ship could possibly reach any of Deltora's islands or coastlines in the span of two days," he replied calmly. "It would take them longer. There is time for those squadrons we called in to arrive."

Fearon's narrow eyed gaze was slightly scary. His shoulders looked tense, and his tone was serious and weighed with certainty. "I don't agree."

''It's not up to you. Despite what the Afrisians may think, the statue is a symbolic one only." was the reply.

It sounded far too smug for my ears. I had been just holding my temper the entire time, while listening to this fucktard's blah blah blah about how we didn't know what we were talking about. My patience had been like a bowstring that was so taunt it was ready to snap, and that final sentence had caused it to go right ahead and break.

"That thing is dangerous, damn you!" Before I knew it I was up the steps beside the pedestal, glaring into the startled Councilman's face. I only really registered his startled look, but beyond that I was numb to everything else, including the startled reactions of my friends. "You need to take action now, or history's changed for the worst!"

The councilman's wide eyed, even slightly terrified expression gave me a rush of glee. Sadly, he lost that look rather quickly, although his hand shook when he pointed at the door. "Get out, now. We have made our decision."

"Y-"

Before I could give him a well deserved insult, Takar took two swift strides and slapped a hand over my mouth, tanking me away. Fearon stepped up in my place, standing firmly with his hands clenched at his sides. "It's not the right decision."

The council guy said something to him in a low hiss. I had to strain my ears to even catch a snitches of it. "You don't..._aratin_!"

Fearon's eyes narrowed and his throat seemed to move in a growl. At first I thought he would try to repeat my earlier attempt, but instead he clenched his fists harder. At the same time I was trying to place the word spoken by the Councilman. I recognized it as part of a Arsan term, but several words of our team's native dialect shared the ending. There could be any number of possibilities.

Takar released me, although he seemed to be keeping a wary eye on me. I watched Fearon's stormy expression as he walked up to us and directed a stiff nod at the door.

"We're going," Fearon said roughly, walking down the echoing hall toward the doors. "Nothing's going to change by staying here."

"Good," huffed Lehvahk, running after our Sky Knight as Rahk and Scout trailed after him. I remained standing there a moment longer, glaring hatefully at the Councilman. I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder and turned my head to see Takar still standing there, sternly gazing down at me.

"Didn't you hear Fearon?" he said in a dangerously calm voice. "_We're leaving."_

Takar's tone made it clear. No fighting, just follow Fearon out. On Fearon's orders, not the Sky Knight Council bitches.

"Fine," I growled out. I turned and stomped down the hall, Takar following step for step. He was probably keeping pace with me just to ensure I didn't so anything rash.

If he hadn't been there, I could imagine I wouldn't have been nearly as restraining.

**Takar's POV**

I watched Somra's back as she furiously exited the Council Hall. I moved to close the doors after us. Before my hands had even come close to the handles, Somra's had darted in and she slammed the doors shut.

The heavy metal frames made resounding, grating slams against the old stonework. I winced as the noise reached my sensitive ears. I shot a heated glare at her for her method of vengeance. Somra gave me a falsely sweet smile in response and mounted her skimmer. I did the same with mine, suspecting that by slamming the doors with so much force she wasn't just taking vengeance on the Councilman, but on me for forcing her to leave.

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Back on the Strikeflier once again, I felt myself relax as the welcoming security of the ancient carrier surrounded me. This was my haven. Possibly all that had kept me sane during childhood.

My saving grace from all the cruelty inflicted on me. The hate from my parents for being a runt by kerion standards, beaten and starved. In addition to worse things. I habitually ran my fingers over my back, and even through the cloth could feel the old whip scars.

I didn't get to reflect farther. Even as the others took up lazy positions on the bridge couches, I settled into my usual stance. Setting my back against the window, I crossed my arms and leaned on the glass. I allowed my gaze to roam absentmindedly across the faces of my comrades while we sat in silence for a short while. My previous thoughts were shoved aside and occupied by the recent failure.

Fearon was sitting with his head bent, elbows on his thighs. His chin rested on his clenched hands, while our Sky Knight's eye ridges were drawn together in a frown. Lehvahk twiddled his thumbs, gnawing slightly on his lip. For once, his enthusiasm seemed to have faded. Privately, I was enjoying the respite greatly.

Scout was uncertainly looking back and forth, obviously unsure of why no one was talking. Rahk was pacing near the back of the bridge with a rigid, blank stare, and Somra simply sat next to Fearon, watching his face carefully.

There was finally a interruption to the monotony. "Well, we're fucked," Lehavhk said in a deadpanned voice. He sounded dispirited, a tone that took me aback. He'd never sounded like this before, and the moment made it hard to remember he was the to hell and back enthusiast. "They didn't want to help."

"Aren't you supposed to be the damn optimist?" I sneered at him, unable to hold back in the atmosphere of annoyance and defeat that had surrounded us. Lehvahk glared back with unusual fervor, ice in his blue eyes. "What, afraid that I'm stealing your role as the pessimistic bitch?"

"Takar's right," Somra interjected, half standing and slamming her palms down on the table. "Shut the hell up, we get it!"

Fearon lifted his head and steepled his fingers. His yellow eyes were very bright, almost feverishly. "All of you stop arguing! It isn't helping."

"It's kind of hard to see a good side to this," Rahk said plainly, if somewhat sullenly. He had stopped pacing and was now standing in place, arms crossed behind his back. Our specialist fixed a inquisitive gaze on Fearon from his light green eyes. "Like Lehvahk said, the Council didn't want to hear our argument out and offer help."

"Then we deal with this without help," the Sky Knight's words caused a whole new silence to fall over us, this one caused by shock rather than despair.

The absurdity of the comment caused me to regain my senses faster than the others. Almost instantly I was sounding a caustic reply. "What? Are you shit crazy, Fearon? Did you even see how much we were outnumbered back there?" I threw a hand in the air to emphasize my next words. "Then there's Teresal Isle itself!"

Fearon just raised a reptilian eye ridge. A stealthy smirk was starting to appear on his lips in the process. "And why is Teresal a problem?"

I moved my mouth but couldn't seem to form any words. Finally I settled on shaking my head in plain bewilderment.

"Um, what exactly is the problem?" As usual, Lehvahk was completely clueless. "Isn't Teresal Isle just a island?"

Somra rolled her eyes and scornfully slapped Lehvahk on the back of the head. He sat straight up with a yelp, and I snorted with humor, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

"It's not just a island, idiot!" she snapped.

Lehavhk rubbed the back of his head and glared at her. "Then how is it not-"

"Teresal's a natural fortress," Rahk interrupted. "And the Lucar bounty hunter's main hideout. It's impenetrable."

"Before you ask how," Fearon remarked, his eyes still unusually bright. "The island's surrounded by cliffs that go above the second cloud layer, and they're made of blue granite. It's nearly as indestructible as protosteel. There are other defenses, too, but no one's figured out the full extent of them."

"Then...how the fuck are we supposed to know how to sneak in?" Lehavhk said in mid yawn.

Fearon gave Rahk and me slight nods, pointing subtly at Lehvahk and smiling behind his clenched fist. Then me and the crystal specialist started to stare at the sharpshooter too, picking up on the concept forming between us-at least somewhat. Catching our stares aimed at Lehvahk, Somra started to mimic us with a devilish smirk. Scout climbed behind the back of the couch and peeked up over the top.

"Um, what are you staring at me for?" Lehavhk's nervous voice pitched through the silent air.

**Lehvahk's POV**

"You get the privilege of being our scout," Fearon responded.

It took a moment for the sentence to sink in, but when it did I was less than pleased. Scouting out a island fortress – especially one like Teresal Isle - sounded like a invitation to a nasty and early death. Even I couldn't put a positive spin on this idea. "And what am I supposed to look for? A open gap with a 'welcome to Teresal,' sign?"

My sarcastic reply didn't seem to have any affect of Fearon's expression, or his decision to send me. "No. Look close to the surface of the ocean. Teresal's rumored to have tunnels that maze around underneath it like a anthill."

"Rumored?" Somra said skeptically. "That doesn't sound encouraging."

"It's one of the only leads we have as a way to get in," Takar's comment was flat and right to the point. As much as I hated it, I grudgingly had to agree. The tunnel rumor was our only lead.

"Why me?" I wondered aloud. "I'm not the fastest flyer."

Fearon regarded me with a kind of measured, thoughtful gaze. To my relief, the feverish gleam seemed gone from his eyes. Right then, he seemed exactly like a leader, more than he ever had before. "You're good at evasion, and stealth. At least while on a skimmer. That's why you get to be the scout."

"Like the visorak Scout?" I joked, feeling the need to lighten up. I didn't like being depressed. Scout blinked his dark green eyes, then released what in visorak terms was probably a laugh, along with a amused grin.

"Nah," Rahk answered, smiling in spite of the serious mien he had been maintaining. "The kind of scout that scopes out the lay of the land."

"Never mind how ironic it is that the one who can't keep his damn mouth shut is considered stealthy," Somra commented, with even more sarcasm than I had after hearing about my scout role.

I scowled at her. "Shut up. I can do that stealth shit easy. And I can be quiet when I want to!"

"Oh, really?" Somra scoffed. "I guess we'll know after this little mission of yours."

_Yeah, we probably would. The verdict will depend on whether I come back in one piece,_ I thought sarcastically, unable to stop the nervous tingle beginning to rush through my nerves.

**Pls read and review! I really want to know what readers think, even if it's only a few words :D**

**~dharak**


	6. plans and rising tensions

**I don't own Storm Hawks.**

**In my version of Deltora, and all across my imaginary world in general, they have modern devices like ours, but crystal charged of course. Just a heads up, since this chapter reveals that Takar has tech skills and there is a computer on their ship.**

_Reminder about racial appearance-_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

**Lehavhk's POV**

For the thousandth time, I wondered what in all the damn world had made me do this.

The blue granite cliffs of Teresal loomed over me, almost seeming it curve down as if seeking to force me into the roiling ocean. In the red light of dawn, the granite didn't look at all blue, but rather a dark crimson. It gave the disturbing impression that the cliffs had been drenched in blood.

Needless to say, not a encouraging sight. Very much the opposite.

Feeling as though my heart had wriggled up into my throat, I flew a foot above the surface of the shifting ocean. The spray soon drenched my feet and the bottom of my skimmer in icy, salty water, and I shivered slightly. _Shit, my feet probably will go numb. _

Now much closer to the granite cliffs, I carefully peered at their salt crusted bases, looking for any kind of cave or tunnel mouth. Water wear didn't seem present – I hadn't expected it to be. According to Rahk, the only reason the rumored tunnels could possibly exist was through some form of magical means.

_He owes me a damn lot for making me do this. _

For what seemed like the millionth time, my gaze darted from the cliff and the sea and nervously scanned the entire surface of the granite cliff, traveling to the top. I half expected to see a rain of arrows flying at me, but to my relief none of the bounty hunters seemed to have seen me. If they were up there at all, at least.

I relaxed slightly, returning to the real purpose of me being here in the first place. _Good, I'm not getting blasted to hell and back._

With that particularly disturbing thought out of mind, I began to scan the rock cliffs for any sign of the before mentioned tunnels. After the first few minutes, I began to feel heavily discouraged. Red rock, red rock, red rock, darker rock...

_Darker rock!_

The sudden realization jolted me from my induced gaze. I flew closer to the spot, as close as I could get without the wing tips of my skimmer scraping against the cliffs. Then I looked closer at the patch of darkness.

The patch was just above sea level, hardly notable. I figured I had only seen it by a stroke of luck. The problem was, it looked like a tunnel from here, but it could also just be a cave.

I shrugged. My job had been to find a sign of the tunnel system. The rest of it was up to Takar.

**Takar's POV**

In preparation for Lehavhk's return, I had been told to re-purpose a project of mine.

During the course of my mechanic exploits, I had gained a love of inventing and a keen understanding of technology. In addition to piloting skill, I had soon honed a deep affinity with technological things. They had always been a innate part of my instincts. I had built several small devices in my childhood days, from whatever small bits of tech I could find. I had completely disregarded the constant disapproval and mockery from my peers and cruel family, since pleasing them was impossible for me.

After leaving my former home for good, I had been able to find a fix a old laptop computer-the only one on the entire ship, since I had gotten it practically for free and we didn't have the money to spare for a new one. It worked well, though-surprisingly well, almost on par with a new one.

What I had before me currently was a inch thick panel with a gridded screen. Originally meant to become a kind of secondary radar device to aid the Strikeflier's smaller, older one, it had been deemed suitable for a far more important task-scanning the granite cliffs at certain points to determine if the areas were real tunnels or just indentations. And along with that information, to see just how big a object could fit in said tunnels.

I had the panel flipped screen down, back opened to reveal wires and circuitry. I had been rewiring and adding components into it for the past hour, prodding at some spots with tweezers were my fingers couldn't get through. I was also wary of getting shocked, which would a freaking huge embarrassment on my part.

Both Somra and Rahk had left the bridge and gone to other parts of the Strikeflier. I guessed they could be preparing for our next course of action in their own ways, not that I minded. The more quiet the environment during my work, the better.

Fearon was my only current company. He was standing facing the window, staring out the glass with one hand pressed against it. His reflection was hard to see with the bright morning light coming through the window, so I couldn't tell from that what he was thinking from his expression. Although he was quiet, that didn't entirely help relax me. The air felt tensed and charged like it would be before a thunderstorm.

We had always had animosity between us. I was easier to anger and more impulsive-but despite that, I didn't like to do things were the odds were completely against us. Like breaking into Teresal Isle, for instance. My biggest worry at the moment wasn't about the island fortress-it was about just how bad the hostility between me and Fearon could get. The storm could break at any moment.

I used my tweezers to perform one last modification, then screwed the back of the panel back on.

"There we go." I placed the reconfigured device on the table, then stood up and stretched, raising my arms high above my head. As I did, cast a glance at Fearon. He didn't seem to register what I had said for a few seconds. Then he shook his head blearily, turning to face me. Both his eyes and his expression were just as unreadable, just as his reflection had been. "Alright. Good."

The vacant tone of his words needled me, but it also sparked some innate nerve that I couldn't identify. "That's all you can say? Shouldn't you be more encouraging, seeing as how we could all be dying soon from your decision?"

"No one's dying, Takar!" Fearon snapped back in response to my comment, beginning to glare at me. He took a step closer to me, and I mimicked him, a matching scowl forming on my face. The air around us seemed to crackle, and it dully registered in the back of my mind that I had released the storm. Now I was too caught up in anger to care.

"And how are you so sure of that? Teresal isn't just a some old island! We could get shot out of the sky, captured-"

"Not if we're careful," snarled Fearon, his eyes glinting. By now we were nose to nose, even though Fearon had to tilt his chin up slightly to do it. "And we _will_ be careful. To hell with the island, we're stopping those bounty hunters!"

"And how? By stealing that artifact?" I countered mockingly, amid a rising tide of agitation. By now both our voices had raised considerably higher, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of the others, if not all of them could hear us. I felt like my somewhat deeper voice echoed further, but I didn't care whether anyone heard me shouting or not. "You do realize that it could be anywhere on the island? We'd be searching for hours, which we damn well won't _have_!"

"We won't need to do that!" the ferocious response startled me, even though I didn't let that show. "I'll be able to tell what the general area is that we'll need to search."

"And why? Because of the little secret you won't tell the rest of us?"

"It's _my_ damn past, I don't need to explain it!"

The debate was cut short by the approaching hum of a skimmer. From the green paint and battered appearance, it was obviously Lehvahk returning to give his report.

Shooting me a seething glance that I countered by turning my back on him, Fearon left the bridge in a temper, leaving a disturbing wake in his path.

I dropped my shoulders and sighed. _I knew this would happen_.

The rivalry had been sparked, the storm released. I felt ashamed now that I didn't have the sense to stop it, but what was done was done. It was odd, too, compared to the peaceful scene we had shared on the opservation deck some time ago. Then, we had seemed to almost understand each other-but now, it seemed like some kind of barrier had come up between us. Was it a tust issue, or maybe...

My thoughts trailed away when a idea occurred to me. The reason I was so at odds eith Fearon now might have been from his claims that he could protect everyone. It had been subtle, underlinging his words. He might not have even known he had spoken it. But whether he had meant to or not, we had both made the mistake of widening the divide.

I was pretty sure things weren't going to calm down between us anytime soon.

**Fearon's POV**

I took the chance while walking down the hall to calm my temper. Gradually the feelings of anger simmered down until they were no longer quite as obvious or volatile.

Of all the challenges I had thought we would face, I had never considered something on the level of internal conflict. I had known from the start that Takar wasn't happy about what we were doing, but I hadn't known just how against it he was-or predicted the rift forming between us. The argument had been ferocious, even disturbing.

It had brought up unwanted emotions, too. Takar had seemed to be pushing hard to uncover the source of my knowledge of criminal workings, and instinctively I had responded harshly in the heat of the argument, trying to veer away from the subject. It hadn't seemed to work-if Lehvahk hadn't shown when he did...I didn't know what would have happened, but I did know I wouldn't have liked it.

_I need to forget about this,_ I thought fiercely._ Now. _

It would only distract me, and being burdened with attention defects meant that was harder to do than it seemed, especially when the subject was bothering me.

I was able to distract myself, if briefly, when I entered the hanger and found Lehvahk there. He was leaning against the wall, hands braced on the rail that protruded from it at waist height. The smile on his face was cocky, happy, and smug. In other words, it meant he had found something.

"Found something?" It was a unnecessary inquiry, but I asked the question anyway. I didn't quite realize I had repeated my last thought.

Lehavhk's smile got wider. "Yep. Did Takar get his doohickey working?"

"Yeah," I replied, casting a glance at the ceiling. "You'd better go and let him tell you how it works, because you'll be flying back to the cliffs again."

"Damn," Lehavhk remarked jokingly. "I'd better make sure I don't end up-"

"Shot down? Yeah. Make sure you don't let that happen."

Lehavhk gave me a funny look. "That's creepy, dude. How'd you know I was going to say that?"

I didn't say a word about how the suggestion had come up in the bitter exchange between me and Takar. Instead I smiled and replied differently. "Maybe I'm a mindreader."

"Of course you are!" cried Lehvahk, jokingly playing along. "What am I thinking about now?"

"Food?" I guessed, and probably wrong, since Lehavhk sniggered behind his hand.

"Nope! I'm thinking about bragging that I found our way in to Somra's face."

"Damn it," I laughed quietly as we both started to head back to the bridge. "I'm busted, aren't I?"

"Big time, my friend. Big time."

**Somra's POV**

I would never admit it, but I was very unsettled when our meeting was called from over the Strikeflier's crackly intercom. I had heard the entire shouting match between Takar and Fearon from my room. Although some of the words drifted in and out of focus, it seemed like Takar's view of our mission wasn't as agreeable as he had led us to believe at first.

Even if I hadn't heard the argument, I still would've known something had changed between my two friends. They seemed more coldly distant than they should have been, and there was a look in both Takar's and Fearon's eyes that made me instantly know they weren't on good terms.

Although Rahk, Scout, and Lehvahk didn't seem to know the source of the hostility, they noticed. They seemed to either forget or acclimate later, though, and soon enough I seemed to be the only one aware of this new behavior.

I didn't like it, ether. I damn well didn't like it, because it was bound to cause problems. Still, I didn't feel any urge to bring it up, and that was more than likely for the best. Lehavhk was now freshly returned from taking Takar's repurposed device out to scan the cliffs. He came back with good news and bad news.

"Good news! There's certainly a tunnel there, a true to the gods one. Wide enough for a big ass warship, from what the radar's sonic waves were saying. It curves upward after a hundred feet or so. Bad news, it's nearly all the way filled with the ocean."

"At least if it could fit a warship, the Strikeflier will certainly fit," Rahk said. Then his eyes lit up and he sat bolt upright, the classic Rahk-has-a-idea posture. "The water may be a little more of a problem. Maybe a crystal combination of sorts could get us through."

"Our airship would be flying underwater?" Lehavhk was now animated with a boundless enthusiasm. He began to hop in place excitedly. "Cool! Let's do it, then."

What I had in mind was something more like a way to part the water for the carrier, or perhaps to force it to retract. If it was even possible for Rahk to do such a thing, which he didn't seem all that certain of, judging from the 'maybe,' in his first sentence. "You're a damn bonehead, Rahk said maybe."

Lehavhk stuck his tongue out at me. "In my language, maybe means yes."

I plastered a horrified expression on my face. "You have a language? What's it called, dummy speak?"

"The tides may help lower the water enough to get through," Fearon spoke up before we could continue the interesting debate, assuming leader role. He tapped his fingers against his thigh, eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm not sure how much of a difference they would make so far out at sea, but it's worth a shot. Especially since low tide is in a hour, at sunset."

"And what makes you think they would make a difference?" Takar's remark was incredibly caustic, even for him.

"I said it's worth a shot, not that we're relying on using them," Fearon snapped back. The two exchanged sharp glances, then Fearon looked back at us. He had disengaged from a fight, but he still looked a little agitated. "Instead of Lehavhk going, I'll go check on the water. He should have a break."

"Yes!" Lehvahk sighed in relief, propping his feet on the table. "My feet got frozen from the ocean." He wriggled his toes and me, and I rolled my eyes in response. "Now my little piggies can warm up."

"If it looks low enough for the Strikeflier to make it through, then the first phase of out plan is set," Fearon finished up explaining, then got up and promptly left the bridge. We could hear his footfalls continuing down to the hanger. Echoes tended to carry far in the Strikeflier-the old hallways had all kinds of cracks and crevices for noise to seep through.

I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from the dark green and gray metal of the door. I didn't find the door itself very interesting, but I felt like trying to stare though it at Fearon. I felt the urge to talk to him, but I was somewhat reluctant to since I didn't think I could predict whether he would get angry at me or not.

The current relation between Takar and Fearon now worried me more now that I had witnessed it-it didn't seem like they could work together very well like this. I suspected Fearon's real reason for taking over as the scout was to get away from out pilot.

Glancing at Takar, I could see the same thing had probably occurred to him. A faint scowl was lingering on his face, and his arms were crossed in a surly manner.

This was already teetering on the edge of damnation. And from inner turmoil, no less. It was putting a rather effective dampener on my enthusiasm for the little escapade.

**Fearon's POV**

The clear air was a massive relief against my skin, and cleared my head far better than anything else would have. The creaking hanger doors were soon behind me as my skimmer roared out into open air. Just to lighten my mood, I performed a aerial look, then banked toward the cliffs.

As I drew closer, I instinctively aimed to skim the surface of the ocean. I found it strange their were no guards circling the island-for all it's natural defenses, someone could fly over on a skimmer.

Or at least, that's what everyone else seemed to think, including the rest of my team. Me? I wasn't at all that sure.

From our combat the day before, the bounty hunter's leader hadn't struck me as a fool. She seemed the opposite-a conniving, very clever being. A bitch, but still clever. Leaving the tops of the cliffs unguarded seemed damn unlikely. And after the subject of enemy attack had been so adamantly caught up in my earlier argument with Takar, the last thing I wanted was to make a foolish error. Especially one that could cost us-badly.

I soon sighted the spot Lehavhk had talked of. The stretch of black looked forty feet long at least, reflecting against the blue of the ocean, more than wide enough for the Strikeflier. And according to the scan Lehvahk had carried up, more than high enough too. But the water was the main concern.

Putting aside my earlier worry, I flew up to it, and saw with a flash of hope that the water had lowered. It was at the point were the Strikeflier would only be a little less than half submerged if we tried to fit our carrier through. Within the next half hour, it would lower enough to get through. If we timed it right, we could make it out the same way if the artifact was found and retrieved in forty minutes or a hour.

"Score," I muttered. Banking again, I began to speed back to the Strikeflier.

I was halfway there when I acted on a nagging instinct and looked back. My eye caught a ring of neon blue, arching in the sky above the island. It was faint, and flashed in and out of sight quickly. But I was certain it hadn't been my imagination. I stopped and turned my ride back toward Teresal, hovering in place. I squinted at the spot I had seen the arch of blue light, and was able to spot it again. This time, I could see a blue film in the curve of the arch. In the orange and red of sunset, the colors were definitely not normal.

I nodded to myself as I formed a idea about why no one patrolled the cliffs. "A shield," I whispered, uncaring that the wind snatched my words away.

Good thing our plan didn't include flying over the cliffs. Too bad I didn't know just how unpredictable our lives would get.

**Rahk's POV**

During the time Fearon was out, I began to set about dissecting our plan along with Somra, trying to insure that all the bugs were worked out. Meanwhile Scout and Lehvahk had initiated a staring contest with one another, and Takar had resumed staring glumly out the windows.

I ended up wishing it was Takar I was discussing the plan with, even though he never came up with positive things. Somra seemed to have only one answer for everything.

"If we end up being spotted..."

"We fight the damn bastards, duh."

I massaged my temples. "If one of us is captured?"

"We fight our way in and then out."

"If a horde of vulca bats show up?"

"We fight-wait, vulca bats? Why he hell would that happen? They don't live on islands."

"I was testing you for automatic response," I answered. "And I'm pleased to report that you were on automatic response."

Somra regarded me with confusion. "No. I genuinely meant what I said."

That would have seemed unnatural to me if it had been anyone but Somra. Fighting seemed like her life's blood.

The bridge door hissed open to admit Fearon, and nearly everyone's attention shifted to him. He looked better now, more bright eyed, less tired and grim, and more alert. Takar didn't move, keeping his gaze unblinkingly on the sky. Still, he seemed to be listening.

Apparently Fearon had decided the same thing, since he spoke without bothering to attract Takar's gaze.

"All the pieces of the plan fit," he said slowly, a steady, purposeful gaze panning out over all of us. "We move out at the start of the next hour."

**pls review. I'd like to hear what people think about the rivalry introduced. I really like steady reviews, even one or two words :)**

**~dharak**


	7. Enemy territory

**Disclaimer: I don't own Storm Hawks, Emily Rodda's Deltora books, or any Bionicle name references. **

_Reminder about racial appearance-_

_Varon-Varons look like raptors from Storm Hawks, but with ears like a cat and hair like a human._

_Kerion-tall and have fur of many shades. Have the heads of cats, tails, and long narrow ears. Also has hair like a human._

_Rahkshi-humanoid in all appearances save for having scales of many colors, the heads of snakes and ears of cats. Have four fingered hands with thick gray claws and three toed clawed feet. Have hair both long and short like a human. _

**Takar's POV**

This was a bad idea. I could feel it as a nagging tug in my stomach, like it had become a sinkhole. My nerves seemed partially shot, causing my hands to freeze in their curled positions around the Strikeflier's controls.

I could repeat my doubts a thousand times, and the others would ignore them. They saw my worries as useless pessimism, but I was fairly certain they would learn not to by the end of this mess. Especially a certain stubborn Sky Knight.

I glanced to my right with a heated glare and beheld Fearon standing at a respectable distance from me, gaze fixated on the tunnel entrance. Much as it disgruntled me to admit, he had proven right about the damn water-it had lowered enough to admit the Strikeflier. But we had yet to see whether he was right about how long the water would stay down. Apparently Rahk had double checked Fearon's calculations, but that still didn't make me feel confident. Plenty of things could still go wrong.

Tensely I let the Strikeflier drift lower, until the bottoms of her pontoons were trailing in the shifting ocean surface. Then I stiffly yet precisely navigated the small carrier into the tunnel entrance.

The place seemed to instantly block off the light of the sun and swallow up what had managed to get in. Heartbeat loud in my ears, I flicked on the switch for the ship's outside lights.

They came on and illuminated a stark, grim corridor of rock. It had been made by someone, that much was plain, but they hadn't been masters at the task. The walls were ridged and creased, with uneven depressions along it's length. In short, it was the crudest job imaginable. The treacherous surroundings caused me to fly the Strikeflier at a slow, carefully precise pace, so as to avoid getting stuck or damaging the plating. The rough walls passed by slowly, shadows rippling across them in a almost wraith-like manner.

As for how we would get back up, we had decided to continue to use my modified radar screen to scan for gaps. So far, I had been following it upward, as the pings were sending back signals referencing to a large gap, maybe big enough for the ship to escape through if necessary. If it wasn't, the ship's blasters could fix the problem.

"Well whoever carved this shitty thing had no talent, did they?" Somra remarked caustically, eyeballing the walls. "I hate being underground," she muttered. Despite her causal tone of voice, she seemed to have tensed up, especially up by her shoulders. After glancing briefly at her to behold this, I turned my attention back to the darkness ahead of the ship that the lights couldn't seem to pierce.

"Why, claustrophobia?" Lehavhk remarked, then shriveled back when Somra turned to glare at him. I snorted derisively, having guessed these events seconds before they happened.

"No," she answered quietly, in a strangely flat tone. The calm response was the last thing anyone expected, as I could tell from the stunned silence. I didn't actually look at them-I was more concerned about navigating the ship safely through the roughly hewn tunnel.

"I just feel that we're easy targets in such a confined space."

the sentence struck a cord of truth. If the bounty hunters did perhaps find out, we were fucked. We'd be blasted to nothing in minutes, or they would just try to collapse the tunnel. The notion sent a chill running down my spine. Scout began to growl and pace, his gaze darting everywhere as if ready to bolt.

"No one knows we're down here," Rahk broke the awkward silence. "And if things go as planned, they won't."

"If things start to deviate from the plan, we improvise," Fearon added encouragingly, trying to boost the morale. I sent his reflection a brooding look. "And then we should be fine, as long as no one's left alone."

I felt my my lips twist into a cynical sneer. _To hell with improvising. It'll just get us all killed._

**Somra's POV**

"Can't varon and rahkshi see in the dark?" Lehvahk asked after a few more minutes of silence, save for the sounds of the Strikeflier at work as it flew through the tunnels. He was the only one sitting, maybe since he didn't feel the gods damned nervousness plaguing the rest of us. It was the oppressive kind that you didn't want to break for fear of shattering it and unleashing a unknown fear.

I couldn't think of a fast response, having been to enveloped in my thoughts to do so. Fearon seemed out of touch, staring intently out into the dark with intense concentration. It may have been that which caused Lehvahk's inquiry.

"Actually, there's a common misconception about that," Rahk answered for me, while Scout sidled up next to Lehvahk and leaned against his shoulder. Lehavhk didn't make a move to change that, but I didn't expect him to-Scout and him had long been very brotherly. "Varon and rahkshi can see body heat at night, meaning they can see living things in the dark. They can't see nonliving things any better than us, though."

"Ah," Lehavhk muttered. "Then what's Fearon looking at?"

"I'm trying my best to stay alert."

Fearon's reply was said absentmindedly. It was clear from the tone he had responded automatically, without thinking about it. His eyes hadn't moved from the windows. Takar seemed to have focused completely on what fell in range of the Strikeflier's lights, his shoulders stiff. Probably like mine felt,but probably for another reason besides being underground.

Then very faint beams of light beamed in from ahead. From the number of them, the opening looked just big enough for a carrier, leaving ample room for one as small as the Strikeflier.

"This seems to be our stop," I said, cracking my knuckles. "And it'll be night soon. Perfect."

"For you," grumbled Lehvahk. "I won't be able to see as well."

"Then you get to rely on me for directions," I replied, taking pleasure in Lehavhk's thunderstruck expression.

"On you? You'd trick me into some damn pit or something."

"It's you, me, Somra and Rahk, remember?" Fearon spoke up for the first time since his last short, tension filled sentence. Now he sounded fairly lighthearted as he walked up to us, a gleam in his eyes. He glanced at Takar before speaking, his expression going carefully flat. "Get the roof of the ship up close to the rim of the opening, like ..we planned."

I didn't miss the slight pause before Fearon said, 'we.'

Apparently our pilot hadn't either. Takar sent a dour and baleful glance at Fearon, but did as requested.

The Strikeflier shuddered briefly before rising directly upward. The ascent was over fairly soon, and the four of us who were to go up above had soon gone to the observation deck, then climbed to the roof using the narrow ladder rungs in on the outside of the ship. We jumped the two foot gap between us and the lip of the hole, and Fearon signaled for the Strikeflier to get out of sight again.

The faint hurr of the carrier doing just that sounded, but was hard to hear amid the varying animal and insect noises around us, in what looked like a tropical version of a woodland forest. The air was damp and hot, seeming to make it harder to breathe in the humidity. I felt unpleasantly sticky already. It was already very dark, probably from the cliffs blocking most of the light out.

Lehavhk was fidgeting like he had already discovered the conditions, but Fearon and Rahk seemed fixated on another sight, bleakly staring at it with hints of hopelessness,

Looking in the direction they were, I felt my eyes go wide at the sight. "Gods. That's horribly impressive."

"What is? Oh..." Lehavhk trailed off.

The object of our stares seemed only about ten minutes from us, but we were also standing a ledge that rose about thirty feet in the air. From here, we had a very good view of the bounty hunter's base.

The place looked like a old, ancient village of stone buildings. A modernized wall surrounded it, bristling with weapons that made it look rimmed at the top with porcupine quills. Apparently Nakari didn't feel a frickin shield on the top of the island was enough. A huge stone fortress, patched up with new stonework in several spots, loomed in the exact center of the place. The old and new rock made it look patterned like a patchwork quilt, but with only two colors-gray and paler gray. Points of light were everywhere, bathing the contours of the entire complex and the ground. There was a ancient, archaic feel-not something I had expected to feel when looking at a bounty hunter's base.

Once my mind got over the enormity of what we were seeing, though, I came to realize this would be a lot harder to do than we had thought.

"Damnit," Fearon growled, a frustrated snarl rumbling in his throat. Every line of his body seemed to have gotten more tense, like a predator ready to spring. Maybe it was from the overbearing feeling of threat that hovered over us like a shroud. "We didn't plan for a small town to navigate through."

"No," Rahk responded. His dark and thoughtful expression shifted, looking a bit more enthusiastic. But only a bit. "But it doesn't mess everything up."

"How?" Lehvahk asked the question incredulously, looking plain bewildered. "That place can only have bounty hunters in it."

"We can still steal disguises," Rahk replied. Fearon seemed to flinch. Rahk looked at him in confusion. "What did I say?"

"Please don't use the word, 'steal,'' he replied tensely.

"Okay...anyway, it'll be easier to get what we need in such a crowded setting."

Lehvahk still had a small frown, like he still didn't fully understand. Scratch that - he probably was still confused. "Oh," was all he said in reply.

"It makes us run the risk of being discovered much faster," Fearon added abruptly, his gaze still not moving from the armed and unlawful community we saw before us. "We need to move fast, and keep an eye out for any of Nakari's officers, especially the ones we battled by the shipwreck."

I felt the beginnings of a growl rumble in my chest when I remembered Lieja, the straggly Blizzarian bitch that had attacked me with feral intention, which in a way I had returned in kind. Her infuriating sneer flashed in my mind's eye. "Sure we can't pound at least some of them?" I grumbled.

"No," Fearon replied, flatly but firmly. "The idea here is to get Ayres the Timekeeper, and get out. Not to engage in a fight were we would be clearly outnumbered."

"You have a point," I muttered grudgingly.

"We need to move and act on the plan," Fearon commanded, beginning to climb carefully down the ridge, eyes flitting between the ground and the menacing battlements. "If we keep standing here we could become lovely targets."

"Aye aye captain," I murmured. I began to follow him, yanking on Lehavhk's arm to startle him out of his seeming trance. He scowled at me, but followed anyway, extra encouragement from Rahk urging him to move.

We were heading into a nest of doom vipers-the bite of the said snake could kill in three seconds flat. We might live a little longer if discovered in the bounty hunter base-but the analogy still fit all too perfectly.

**Takar's POV**

After the others left, I stood glumly in the middle of the bridge for a few moments before heaving a sigh. Scout had fallen asleep, drooped on the table and letting droll hang from his jaw. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. In a effort to distract myself, I accidentally started thinking about the others not coming back, from getting captured, or killed...

I felt a sharp cramp in my heart at that possibility. I'd never admitted it, but the rest of the squadron was the only real family I felt I had.

_If I don't find something to do, I'll go insane._

I would have worked on the grid panel and made it into a second and better radar for the Strikeflier, but we would still need it to get out of here. Instead, I opted to do what research I could on Teresal.

Of course, I ended up scowling at the computer screen.

As expected, there was next to no info on Teresal. Just things I already knew, like the tunnels, that it was tropical, and surrounded by nearly impenetrable blue granite cliffs. Oh, and that it was a damn bounty hunter base. Hurrah. Wonderful help. It also said that the island had once been part of the Triglade Isles, the group of islands between it and Kylan Isle, but that fact was incredibly unhelpful.

Skimming over the rest of the sparse facts, I gave up researching the place as a lost cause. Turning off the laptop and shoving it into the storage locker built into the side of the table, I was just standing to find something else to do when a eerie howl echoed faintly at the edge of my hearing.

I jumped to my feet violently, heart beating far faster than I wanted. Varied images of monstrous wild animals ran through my mind as I scrambled to collect my suddenly scattered thoughts. Scout woke with a fearful screech that grated on my sensitive ears, then leaped from the table and circled to my side.

"Rawk?" he went questioningly.

"I don't know," I said back, a little bit shakily. Until know, I hadn't though much about how inexperienced we were. This was the first time we had gone on any kind of mission. I had thought unexpected occurrences would happen, but I hadn't realized me and Scout would be all alone during a given time.

Carefully I reached across the table past were Scout had been lying. My hand closed around the hit of the two handed sword I had claimed for myself, a purple striker crystal in the hilt. I hefted the weapon, feeling safer. Melee fighting wasn't something I liked, even though I was fairly good at it. I tried to think of other options, but problems arose with each one.

It may have been possible to fire at whatever was coming with the Strikeflier's cannons, since that the tunnels were just wide enough to turn the ship in place. But the space was still to small for blaster fire to be a good idea, and firing the impact blasters would be plain stupid. I had not way of knowing if the tunnel's stability would be jeopardized, and the last thing I wanted was to die crushed underground. Flying the Strikeflier out of the tunnels was possible through the huge opening above, but that could lead to us being shot down by enemy ships or who knew what else.

Me and Scout waited in tense silence. After a few minutes I began to feel stupid, and Scout exchanged a look with me that seemed to suggest he felt the same. Our nerves were rather frayed-we could have imagined it.

I was just beginning to relax when the howl sounded again-and this time I knew I hadn't imagined it.

**Updates for this story may become fairly slow without feedback if my other current stories get reviews. Pls review :) I want to know what people think. **


	8. infiltration

**Disclaimer-i don't own Storm Hawks, the Deltora Books, or any names or referances from Bionicle. **

_Racial reminders:_

_Varon-Fearon's race. Look like raptors, but with more colorful scales, hair, and catlike ears. _

_Kerion-Takar's race. Humanoids with feline heads, long ears, and lionlike tails. _

_Rahkshi-Somra's race. Humanoids with snake heads, hair, pointed ears, clawed hands and feet. Lack tails. _

_Visorak-Scout's race. Lizardlike creatures the size of large dogs. _

_Blizzarian-Lehvahk and Rahk's race. Rahk is part draconic, meaning he has horns and a longer tail. _

**Lehvahk's POV**

If the full impact of what we where seeing hadn't sunk in already, going up to the gates certainly drove the point home. I couldn't help but gulp as the massive wooden gate, ringed with a spiked iron frame, loomed above us like some dark specter. I felt slightly nauseous, but kept my expression flat as possible.

Before heading in, Fearon had insisted that we streak our faces and clothes with dirt, and the armor too to cover up the squadron insignias. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so no one argued.

Now I was beginning to have second thoughts. _Maybe it would've been safer to find some way of digging under the wall. _In retrospect, it was a completely ridiculous idea, but at the time it sounded strangely logical.

When we got there, I received a slight shock-there were no guards in front of the gates. For a moment I relaxed in relief, thinking we could get in easily. Then I felt a bony elbow in my side. Rahk's voice hissed in my ear. "Keep a calm expression. We aren't out of the clear yet."

I looked at Fearon for confirmation. After glancing upward, Fearon narrowed his eyes and nodded slightly. I looked up too, and saw that four guards were positioned on the slippery top of the gate, staring down at us. Glancing at Fearon again, I saw him look meaningfully at me. It was a look I had long ago learned meant to leave something to him.

Fearon looked up at the guards, crossed his arms over his chest, and gained a chilling, almost frightening smile. Then he said the last this I had expected, in a harsh, demeaning tone.

"Why are you idiots staring? Open the damn gates already!"

If we hadn't been plainly in the bounty hunter's line of sight, my jaw would have unhinged. As it was, I managed to keep it from doing just that. At this moment, it almost seemed like a whole different person was standing in Fearon's place-someone almost comparable to Nakari in terms of arrogance and cruelty.

It was hard to see expressions through the mist, but the guard's voice had taken on a considerably angry tone. "What did you just say, bastard?"

"I said to let us in!" Fearon shouted back, a unmistakeable growl in his voice. "We have info for Nakari, dammit! Do you really want to be the one to keep it from her?"

There was a slight pause as the bounty hunters digested the sentence. I was very aware of my heart racing in my chest as I prayed to the gods that they bought the lie. Fearon's accurate (if scary) performance would hopefully get us in...

I felt the pressure around my ribs fade when the gates grated open. Fearon strode forward with long and confident strides, as if he actually did belong here. I tried my best to imitate his confident air. I seemed to well enough, since there were no calls of alarm of any sign that our activity had been seen as suspicious.

We had gotten a few yards from the gates and were immersed in the ring of buildings surrounding the fortress. The air was foggy, a mix of the island's humidity and smoke. Moss grew on the rock buildings, and foul smells wafted from several directions.

My nose twitched in irritation. Then I felt Fearon grab my arm, and he yanked me into a narrow alleyway.

"Hey!"

"Shh! Whisper, don't yell."

"Why are we in a alleyway?"

"For the next stage of our plan." It had been Rahk that had replied this time. He and Somra huddled near us in the narrow space. Somra eyed the road we had come from while Rahk clarified, seeing my confused look. "We need to find a ideal place to get disguises."

"Why do we need those?" I said indignantly, keeping my voice a whisper so I didn't invoke the other's tempers. "We seem just fine right now."

"That might not last," Fearon replied. Now he was staring past my shoulder, apparently thinking and alert at the same time. "We got in just fine, but if we want to go any further, we need to hide in plain sight. We could be recognized if we don't cover up our armor-and more importantly, our faces."

"Oh," I muttered, shifting in the small space. I'd felt inferior before, but now I felt pretty stupid. How could I have not realized we ran a high risk of being recognized?

_I really need to start thinking ahead._

Fearon moved around me and peeked around the corner. He looked back at us with a glint in his eye. "There's a bar ahead. Anyone else want to bet we can take some drunkards by surprise?"

**Somra's POV**

It was certainly a wonderful plan, but one cannot always account for unexpected factors.

It was easy to have Lehvahk taunt our targets into the alley next to the bar. It was just as easy to knock them out with solid fists to the head.

We looted their leather hoods. I could feel chain mail through the thick leather, providing another layer of protection. The things smelled strongly of metal, but we'd just have to put up with it.

Sadly, we seemed to have spurred Lehvahk into a skittish, nearly paranoid state. He jumped several times when bounty hunters ran past, and nearly sniped another whom ambled across the street into another alleyway with his rifle.

I grabbed his arm and yanked it down, glaring at Lehvahk's widened eyes under the hood. "What the hell's with you? This isn't blending in."

"I'm sorry," he squeaked the words out, begging a sigh from me. Maybe we shouldn't have told him the risks."It's just, if there are really people who recognize us here-"

Yep. We definitely shouldn't have told him. Now Lehavhk was far to fixated on getting spotted.

"That's why we got these hoods," Fearon whispered, sounding calming and commanding at the same time. I fumed a little, slightly jealous of how easily Fearon could get Lehvahk to shut his trap with so little effort. "That way they won't recognize us. We just keep going-"

A massive crash sounded from a battered wooden shack just in front of us. The smell of liquor wafted strongly from it. As if that wasn't proof enough the place was a bar, a chair and a bounty hunter were thrown through the door. Both landed on the muddy and cracked street amid a rain of wooden shards.

Fearon growled in annoyance. I cursed. Lehvahk losing his nerve had been enough to deal with-this was the last thing we needed.

It didn't take long for all the patrons to spill out onto the street. Most were intoxicated, fighting each other with the splintered remains of chairs as we tried to back away from the scene to find a alternate route.

Sadly, we didn't do it fast enough. In the confusion a bounty hunter swung a table leg and Fearon, who instinctively swung his sword and cut the offending piece of wood in half before it could hit him.

The drunken bounty hunter gaped at the cleanly sliced stump. A couple of his buddies lined up behind him, who directed glares at all three of us. With a guttural snarl, the bounty hunter drew a chipped sword. The hunter on his left drew a gun, and the other hefted a spear.

One half of the enemies continued to fight each other, but the other half was now focused on us. At least six enemies drew weapons.

Fearon swore savagely. Then he leaped sideways when a series of gunshots peppered the ground before him. The narrow street caused him to go straight through the shattered door into the bar. The bounty hunter with the sword barreled after him, and two more bounty hunters followed. Another pair loomed before me, brandishing spears. I snarled and lifted my own spear in response to the challenge.

I heard Lehvahk yelping as he dodged bullets, and there was the whistle of air from a blade-a dagger, I though from the pitch and speed. I didn't get any more time to think about his predicament when my own began.

I dodged the bounty hunter's clumsy swing with his weapon and then swung my spear in a blue arch. I knocked the enemy's spear out of his hand, and it went spinning away to impale itself in the ground.

The guy blinked dazedly, looking at his empty hand. This time I swung at his head with the shaft of my weapon. The blow hit, and the bounty hunter fell twitching with a trickle of blood coming from his temple.

The other one was a bit less drunk, I suppose, since when he struck, it wasn't a clumsy swing but a graceful one. It became a stab when I dodged, and I had to jump over the tip to avoid it. I quickly turned the move to a advantage by bringing a foot down on the shaft as I landed and pinning the spear to the ground. Then I swung my own spear in a swift blue arch.

A crescent of blood sprayed from the bounty hunter's neatly sliced chest. He grabbed at the wound, snarled in anger, then gathered his fist and flung a punch. Quick as a snake, I dodged, flipping backwards onto one hand, spear in my other hand. I thrust against the cobblestones and avoided the swing of my enemy's spear.

I smirked slightly. Rahkshi instincts are truly wonderful.

Landing deftly on my feet, I swung, only for the bounty hunter to block. I disengaged, sidestepped when the bounty hunter swung again, and then vaulted over him using the butt of my spear. I raised it and then lunged at my opponent's unprotected back.

He twisted around at the last moment, and my spear tip plunged into his side. Bleeding from the wound and wincing from the burns, he brought his spear back around with a savage cry. I ducked, but the shaft still hit my skull with a glancing impact. My sight went slightly fuzzy. I staggered, and the bounty hunter lunged forward with a crowing victory cry.

As it was, he shouldn't have done anything of the sort. Acting purely the sound of his footfalls and heavy breath, I jumped backward and away from him, then hurled one of my smaller hand bombs in his direction.

The explosion caused a scream of pain from my foe. I was thrown heavily onto my back, the impact jarring my shoulders and back. I could feel grit raining down on me, and my sight clearing up confirmed it. I hissed when the aftereffects of the throwback became known as I stood.

My ears picked up a panicked cry from beyond the smoke and grit.

"Lehvahk," I muttered. "How did I know? Damn idiot's probably close to getting himself killed..."

**Lehvahk's POV**

Somra was partly right. I may have come close to dying a few times, but I am not stupid. No matter what she says.

After avoiding the dagger,I beheld a gun being held to my face.

I yelped and bent backward. The shot missed my nose by an inch, but it served to make me much more wary. I leaned forward and then jumped aside when the gunner tried to take my life again. More holes and crystal dust peppered the place my feet had been. The guy with the dagger came lunging forward and swung at me.

Thank the gods he was using something so short. I managed to avoid him, then ducked into a alleyway afterward. When the dagger guy peered in, I aimed a shot at his shoulder. Deciding on a better place to shoot instead, I lowered my rifle and then ducked when the dagger guy stabbed, causing the weapon to spark against the wall above me. I rolled further down the alleyway and came back up in a sniper's stance, rifle aimed at the guy's leg. This time I fired with no hesitation.

The paralyzer stone bullet went straight in. A blue shock ran through the limb and the bounty hunter stumbled and fell, blood running down his thigh. Yelling in pain and maybe panic, he rolled right under the feet of his companion. The guy with the gun was instantly unbalanced, flailing at the air to try and keep from falling over. I grinned and shot him a mocking wink, aiming my rifle. "Ai, you're all the stupidest people I've ever seen."

With that, I fired at both his upper arms. The bullets tore skin and drew streams of blood, and the bounty hunter howled as he went down, arms frozen in place from the paralyser stones.

I was considering how to knock them unconscious when a familiar familiar figure stepped over and neatly did just that with the shaft of her spear.

"Hey!" Indignant, I watched Somra brush the dregs of the dissipating cloud of dust and grit off her clothes, eyes narrowed and a mocking smile on her lips.

"Got him for ya."

"I could've gotten him!"

"Hah, right. And what would you use, the barrel of your precious rifle?"

I scowled at the thought of brutalizing my rifle in such a way and held it closer protectively, scowling at Somra. "Bitch."

"Bastard."

**Fearon's POV**

Finding myself in the disaster zone of the bar, I just avoided tripping over the shattered furniture as I drew my other sword and crouched low in a fighting stance. With a stream of explosive oaths the bounty hunters shoved their way in, cracking the door frame. Two were carrying swords, the other a gun.

The gunner fired. I deftly dodged the spray of bullets and ended up behind a smashed table. I sheltered behind it and plotted my next strike.

Three foes. One armed with a ranged weapon, and two with melee. Taking out the gunner first was priority.

The sound of the gun faded. Now footsteps came instead, drunken ones that shattered wood under their feet. The sword wielders, no doubt.

I gripped my own weapons tighter. No way they'd be a match for me. And since they were here, I could use that to my advantage.

I backflipped over the table, right between the two bounty hunters. Startled, they only reacted too late. The instant my feet hit the ground, I had dashed toward the enemy with the gun, and with one swipe sent it spinning from his hand. Then I whirled and ducked under his clumsy swing, one sword moving in a swift arch.

Muscle and skin tore as the blow landed. The gun wielder stumbled backward and then fell to the ground moaning in shock, clutching at the wildly bleeding wound. I smoothly sidestepped when one of his buddies came up and attempted a clumsy sword swing, his face contorted in rage.

I chucked to myself as I crossed my swords and deflected another of his strikes. There was something amusing about the high levels of recklessness induced by drunkenness.

The bounty hunter swung again and I ducked, then brought my own blades flashing up. Within a second the bounty hunter shrieked, clutching his bloodied arm. I whirled and landed a brutal kick into the guy's stomach. He doubled over, and I struck him on the temple with the hilt of a sword. Even as I did so, I whirled and then deflected the last bounty hunter's sword.

I was just thinking I was in the clear when a crashing sound heralded the arrival of a new guy, a rugged and red faced wallop. He scowled at me from behind his rhino horn. A gleam of actual intelligence could be seen in his eye, indicating more of a challenge than his friends had been. Maybe he was just a bit more sober.

The bigger problem was that he was a good few feet taller than me and very muscled. By comparison I was twiglike.

I gripped my swords tighter. I could still hear fighting out in the street. Help wasn't something I was expecting, at least not for another few minutes.

The wallop roared and raised the heavy hammer he was carrying. I dodged in a flash, and the hammer pulverized what was left of the table. It didn't seem to matter to the wallop, seeing as how his gaze only seemed to be fixated on me. He swung again, and I ducked and rolled past him. The hammer's head caused even more damage to the unfortunate furniture, and the wallop snarled a curse before swinging his hammer in a arch. I flipped backward, landing catlike on my feet. That was what this was like, actually-a cat harassing a bear.

I glared at the bounty hunter, intensely enough to imagine him burning up. Perhaps slightly deterred, he hesitated before striking. He got over it fast enough, charging with some kind of war cry.

Avoiding a hammer slam, I dashed past his guard and jumped, ramming my feet into his chest. The bounty hunter stumbled slightly from the impact, but then grabbed my ankle and slammed me mightily into the ground.

My back and shoulders took the burnt of the impact, and splintered wood shards made themselves known, digging painfully past my scales. For a moment I was stunned, a blow to the head slowing my thought processes down.

The bounty hunter leered and placed both hands on the handle of his hammer again. That was a mistake he would regret. In that instant I recovered, my battle instincts kicking in. The wallop's hammer rammed into the ground I had been laying on seconds before.

I wasn't there now. I had jumped, waited for the hammer to come down, then landed on the shaft, perfectly balanced. The wallop had only enough time to stare round eyed before I had leaped from my perch and brought both swords down in a cross.

Both made contact with the bounty hunter just under the collarbone. Chest lacerated by the deep cuts, the wallop staggered backward. I used his chest for leverage and landed crouched, my back to him. The crash of a brick wall meeting a skull signaled the end of the fight.

I stood to my full height again. I waited a moment for my breath to come back. Ignoring my racing heart, I ran back out into the street.

The scene that awaited me caused me to instantly halt, eyes wide.

A crater had replaced the rough cobblestones a few feet before me. I wondered vaguely how I hadn't heard the noise that heralded it's creation, then decided that I had been too engulfed in my own conflict to notice it as more than a dull thud.

I looked past the crater, a pang of worry making itself sharply known. "Ai, Somra, Lehvahk!" I tried to call quietly as I carefully walked across the six foot wide crater, but still winced. The shout had seemed to loud, despite my best efforts. The leather and mail hood I had obtained earlier felt incredibly choking as I began to breathe a little harder, worry clustering in my throat. If either of them had died, I'd be haunted by guilt forever.

When I heard Somra's voice in response, I broke into a run. Bursting through a cloud of dissipating dust, I sheathed my swords and hugged her. She grunted slightly, since I hadn't slowed down very much prior.

"You're all right," I said, my relief making itself very clear. The pressure in my throat cleared up.

Somra laughed lightly, eyes agleam. "Of course! Did you think these bastards could actually do me in?"

I returned the laugh with a slight one of my own and a grateful smile. "Of course I didn't think that."

"Ai!" Lehvahk yelped. He sounded and looked irritated that Somra had received attention first, and looked slightly hurt. "Why no concern for me..." then a devious glint lit his eye, and the sniper hit a laugh behind his hand. "Ah, I see. You two-"

"Sorry, are you alright?" I interrupted. I brushed rock dust of my pants absently, meeting Lehvahk's irritated glare squarely with a gaze of my own. The look sent a clear message. _Don't you dare finish that sentence._

I did feel relieved that Lehvahk was safe, but now that relief was tempered with annoyance and the near surge of embarrassment. I knew what he had been about to say, but I didn't want to hear him say it. Whether I was afraid of Somra's reaction or my own, I couldn't be sure.

Lehvahk held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but still looked like he was chuckling silently, as though reveling in a silent joke. I growled under my breath, then stopped myself. _What are we still doing here? We have a statue to st-no, obtain._

"Come on," I said bluntly, detaching myself from the scene like I would remove a wire from a clamp. "We can't hang around here-it'll look suspicious."

**Takar's POV**

I didn't like anything about the current situation. The sounds of something coming had faded, leaving a suffocating silence that was by far worse. There was a uneasy prickling on the back of my neck, and I was pretty certain I was starting to sweat a little. It was too much to hope for that whatever it was had simply left...

On cue there was a round of heavy thuds, then a screeching sound that caused Scout to yelp out a wisp of fire, and me to wince as the harsh sound grated against my ears. The noise was the chains and gears that hoisted the hanger doors open and shut, being forced to move against their will.

On top of the factor the century old mechanism would probably need to be fixed-and that would no doubt be time consuming and tedious, even for me-there was the more life threatening issue of the mystery intruders.

"Damn," I muttered, hefting my two handed sword and starting down the hall from the bridge. "Only one way to find out what's down there, Scout. C'mon."

Scout whined slightly and hung his head in reassignment. Then he and I started to creep toward the hanger, inexorably inching closer to the danger that no doubt awaited us.

**Please leave a review, especially if the story is on your alert list or you have been keeping up with the updates. I would be very, very grateful :)**

**~dharak**


	9. into the fortess-new discoveries

**I don't own any of the properties mentioned in the previous chapters. **

_Reminder on racial appearances-__**advise**__ you read for reminder on races:_

_Takar's race- Kerions have features like those of lions and tigers, and fur of many exotic colors. They have long, narrow ears, and are tall and typically warlike. (the exceptions are the western tribe of kerions, and Takar himself.)_

_Fearon's race-Varons look like Bogaton raptors but with slimmer frames, hair and pointed ears, and a very broad range of colors. Also have more of a capability to handle cold landscape and weather. _

_Somra's race-Rahkshi, with snake heads, pointed ears and gray claws. _

_Scout's race-Visorak, lizard creatures with the bodily structure and size of a large dog. _

_Rahk-blizzarian, with horns and a longer tail showing his part dragon heritage._

_Lehvahk-blizzarian. _

**_QUICK LANGUAGE TRANSLATION- Tembrei_ means 'bastard,' basically, in the Deltoran native language Arsan. _Ai_ generally means, _hey, hi,_ and other general terms of acknowledgment. **

"_Ai_ _tembrei_!" I growled out the Arsan term, following it up with a curse in Common. "Damn things just had to get in here..."

Me and Scout were currently poised just inside the hanger. Scout was eying the hydrag claws steadily forcing the hanger doors open. A harsh smell of brimstone and lizard scales wafted in from the bodies of the giant reptilian creatures. Both must have been juvinile, since they were only somewhat bigger than large horses and adults could have torn the doors open in a instant.

At the moment, though, the last thing I felt was gratitude. Rather, I was staring dismally at the gear and chain system that worked the hanger doors. The entire thing was starting to smoke and spark-it was a good thing the roles of our skimmers were done in this conflict. I was due to spend a lot of time here later. If we ever got out alive, that is.

The thought drew my attention back to the hydrags. With one final push the hanger doors finally gave in, and they squealed harshly open. The now gaping opening gave us a all too clear view of the lizardish monstrosities, their dripping teeth and black claws as long as half my arm making them hardly the ideal guests.

I gripped the sword hilt tighter in one hand. I bunched my other hand into a fist. I watched the creatures with narrowed eyes, uncertain about whether they would move first, or if it would be up to me and Scout to do so.

The beasts didn't give us the chance. They charged, massive feet shaking the hanger. Just like a certain blade swinging terradon I knew, but with a lot more noise and-as much as I didn't like admitting it-none of Fearon's smooth talent.

All thoughts of the Sky Knight were banished when one of the beasts lunged at me with gaping jaws. Instead of dodging, I ducked and braced my feet against the ground. Then I landed a uppercut on the underside of the hydrag's jaw, putting all my irritation and anger into it.

The thing's head was sent jerking roughly upward and to the side. The beast tripped over it's own feet, then managed to trip further over a stack of patching steel. It landed heavily on it's side, scrambling to regain it's footing.

Regretfully, I hadn't moved that fast to take the chance. I had been gaping at my handiwork, hardly believing I had done it at all. When the hydrag managed to stand again and pulverize the patching steel sheets it had scattered, it brought me back to reality.

"Ai! We need that, bastard!"

The hydrag growled loudly in my direction. I glared back, then stepped closer. A new fiery feeling was filling me, and when I identified it I was more than surprised. I was feeling battle lust.

The hydrag roared and leaped. I swiftly sidestepped, and the hyrdag's claws tore gashes in the red Air Skimmer behind me. It was a little satisfying that it was Fearon's, but what was less satisfying was I would have to fix it for him, and with our newly strained relations that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Now in a remarkably foul mood, I glared at the beast anew and lost no time cussing it out. "Bastard! Now I need to fix that damned blade swinger's ride!" I growled. "Now you have a fight, bastard."

The overgrown lizard hissed and slavered, almost like it had understood my words and taken up the challenge. It swiped at me with hit's large claw,s only for me to duck. I dove under it's belly when it tried to snap at me with massive jagged teeth. Twisting onto my back, I gripped my sword with both hands and thrust it into the creature's chest.

Or at least, that was what I was aiming for. The hydrag shifted and the weapon cut a long, deep cut in it's stomach instead.

Coppery blood dripped down. The hydrag roared loud enough to shake the hangar and effectively make me temporarily deaf. Then it reared back on it's hind legs, and it brought it's forelegs down. I held my sword up, sharp edge faced at the bottom of the hydrag's paws.

The impact ran down my arms and into my shoulders, causing a lightning bolt of pain. I gritted my teeth, waiting. The hydrag roared and stumbled back, paws lacerated and burned. Using the chance, I got to my feet and leaped aside when the hydrag lunged forward and tried to bite me. It blinked beady black eyes in confusion when it found me missing from it's target location.

I wasn't quite sure were the urge for my next actions came from. A grin came to my lips, one that showed all my teeth. "Come over here, now," I crooned, almost like I was talking to a pet.

The head swiveled. The eye focused on me. Somewhere in the back of my head, what I was doing registered as insanity, but I ignored it. "Come on, now, bastard," I taunted.

The juvenile beast roared and charged. I held my ground, mustering all my strength and will.

When the hydrag had gotten close enough, I thrust my sword straight at the side of it's head. The blade impacted through bone and muscle, and the hydrag's cheek was covered in streams of blood. It howled, not thinking to stop it's headlong charge before I ripped the sword out, gripping a horn with one hand. Using momentum, I yanked, and rammed the top of the beast's skull into a steel support beam. Silently I asked the ship to forgive me.

The hangar support beam rung from the impact, but held firm. The crack of bone was the only other noise and red showed on the cold steel, inexorably moving in trails down to the floor.

For a moment I just stared at it. The creature wasn't moving and I couldn't see it breathing. Tentatively I nudged the body's flank with a boot, the limp form still not responding. Just to confirm, I looked more closely at the top of the head and the hole I had driven through the hydrag's cheek. My medical knowledge confirmed I must have damaged the brain with my sword strike, and the damage done by the collision with the support beam had finished it.

"Gods," I muttered, the marvel in my voice wasn't lost to me. "I actually did this?" I felt a cynical smirk grow on my lips. "Guess my so called race and family was wrong about the 'weakling,' they thought they had to put up with."

Before the dark memories had the chance to start collecting, the crash of rending metal and a flash of flames reminded me that there hadn't only been one hydrag. Hastily standing, I looked behind me and beheld two smoking skimmers, Somra's and mine respectively. Scout was clinging to the beast's back, trying to bite through it's scaled neck.

There weren't enough curse words in my vocabulary to voice my frustration right then. I slid my sword back into it's holster on my back, ran to catch up to my teammate and the enemy, then jumped onto the hydrag's back as well. I knelt and grasped it's horns like they were skimmer handlebars.

The creature skidded to a stop. It bucked, trying and failing to throw me off. It did manage to toss me briefly airborne, then slammed back against the thick plates of hide covering it's back. Breath knocked out of me but still not willing to let go, I could feel Scout gripping me with his forelegs tightly around the middle.

The hydrag roared in discontent and bucked again, beginning to romp around like a actual bull in a rodeo. Tensing my back and shoulders, I threw all my weight sideways, using the beasts own momentum and Scout's extra weight to wrench the hydrag's neck sharply left.

A audible crack sounded and the hygrag let out a choked growl. It fell flailing onto it's side, nearly crushing us. Rolling away before that could happen, I pried Scout out me and balled my fist up. Scout seemed to find his resolve again. With a hiss, he darted forward and bit the hydrag's tail at it's halfway point. The glow of flames flickered through his teeth.

Despite living in heat, hydrags aren't completely immune to the pain of intense fire. The hydrag squealed and started turning in circles, looking much like a dog chasing it's own tail. Scout stubbornly hung on, growling.

At the apex of it's second turn, I stepped forward and aimed a punch directly between the beast's eyes. The impact sent a shock through my fist, and caused the hydrag to stumble and shake it's head in disorientation. The beast's skull seemed to cave a little from the wave of force that left my fist, and blood ran down it's face. The creature was knocked back several feet and it's rump slammed into the hanger wall. I didn't have time to think about the power I seemed to have discovered.

I grasped it's horn and yanking hard, swung the creature sideways and into the wall as hard as I could. At the same time, Scout wisely released his jaws from the tail and landed lightly on all four feet.

The hydrag yelped as the Strikeflier's hard hanger wall met it's shoulder with a resounding bang and a rough crack. It slid down and attempted to get up again, only for Scout to jump with blinding speed and shoot a intensive flame into the hydrag's eyes. One seared and burned, the hydrag roared, stumbled up, and shook Scout away-only for me to swiftly draw my sword again, grip it in both hands, and stab the beast right through the heart.

The beast's muscles clamped. It shuddered once in a spastic fashion, then collapsed limply when I yanked my sword free. Blood pooled on the hanger floor and had bathed my blade red, but at the moment I could care less. I just cared that these things had paid in full for the damage and complications they had caused, and now I just wanted their miserable dead hides out of here.

Now it was only a question of how to do that. I didn't think I could lift the dead weight of two hydrags, so I began to think of other alternatives.

My gaze landed on the only two skimmers, Rahk's and Lehvahk's, that were still operational. That gaze also encompassed a large stack of coiled, strong rope.

"Problem solved. Let's haul these things out of here."

**Fearon's Pov**

It only took a few steps to realize with a crawling dread someone was still missing, and in my initial relief I hadn't even noticed. Icy cold sting of worry refreshed, I stopped abruptly. I felt Lehvahk run into me with a grunt, and stumbled a little before regaining my balance.

"Guys, have you seen Rahk?"

Somra blinked, then her expression changed to shock when she processed my words. She looked around frantically, then responded with the last thing I had wanted to hear. "No. Not since the fighting. He might've even disappeared before then...damn!"

even as Somra cursed and Lehvahk followed suit, I had inched into yet another alleyway while feeling for my radio. Somra grabbed Lehvahk's shoulder and yanked him after me. Thankfully the street was more or less deserted, no doubt from the chaos of the bar fight and then the even bigger fight that we had helped start, regrettably.

I didn't pay attention to the two as Lehvahk said something, and Somra irately countered. Guilt making my chest feel tight, I clutched the radio hard in a death grip, waiting for Rahk to pick up.

_I'm supposed to be the godsdamned leader, and I let someone vanish. Maybe Takar had a point about me not being able to look after everyone-_

Biting my lip slightly and shaking my head, I stopped the dangerous line of thought. _Nah. No. Damn bastard's wrong, this isn't my fault-_

I was saved from further distress when the radio crackled faintly, and a breathy whisper came through. "Yes? Who is it?"

**Rahk's POV**

I jumped back as the fighting started, then took a single hesitant step forward, intending to fight too. My original intention vanished when a tingling started behind my ears. I stopped short, dumbfounded. I'd felt this before, but in the midst of our first aerial fight a few days ago, when I was flying though the battlefield. I hadn't thought about it then-there hadn't been any time. When I had later mulled over the subject in the aftermath, it occurred to me that the tingling had vanished when I had gotten close to the cloaked Blizzarian.

Remembering that, I was now stuck in a dilemma. I glanced back and forth between the fight in the alley, and in the direction of the fortress, where the tingling seemed to be pointing me to.

Impulsively deciding the others could handle this without me, I haphazardly ran through the alleyways, following the tingle. I didn't care who I ran into, just shoved them out of the way ignoring the curses and glancing blows. The urge was all that I paid mind to, that maddening urge to go to where I was being directed. Stories of this flitted through my subconscious even as I went, but I only vaguely noted it.

The tingle was a draconic six sense. It had been known to lead dragons to many different things, but there was a key factor to all of them. In each instance, the tingle had led to something important the dragon had lost. Once that was done, the sensation vanished.

There had been some times when the located thing hadn't been a object, but a actual being. But I couldn't think of anyone who I knew who could be here.

Or maybe that Blizzarian hadn't been a stranger? He had felt oddly familiar, even with the hood.

By now I had gotten close to the fortress. Slipping into a alley, I touched my fingers to my temple, trying to clear my whirl of thoughts.

_I can't know him. That's impossible, right? My only brother, he's gone. He died so long ago I can barely remember him...right?_

I bit my lip to restrain a frustrated groan. At the same time, unease settled in. It dawned on me that my sudden flight from battle had been downright stupid-it was up to Lehvahk and sometimes Scout to do these things, not me.

_And I'm supposed to be the smart one, dammit. I missed out on getting a disguise, and what if the others actually did need help? They could be either dead or in bad shape, and it would be my frigging fault. _

The call came just as I was reaching for the radio to initiate the same thing myself. For a few seconds my hand stopped as I contemplated the irony. Rebuking myself for the lapse, I plucked the radio from my belt and answered it. "Yes? Who is it?" I asked, sounding sort of dazed. Not surprising. My worrying could sometimes separate me from reality. The voice that came through wasn't a stranger's, thank the gods. It was Fearon's, and he didn't sound like he was doing too good at hiding his immense relief. Then again, Fearon's always been a bad actor.

"Rahk! You're okay, right? Where-"

Hurriedly I whispered back. "Right by the fortress, don't talk too loud."

I heard a awkward shuffle on the other end of the line. "Oh." Fearon had lowered his voice to a better level, I was pleased to note. "I really should have thought of that..."

"It's fine you didn't," I responded, despite myself allowing a bit of a testing note to enter my voice. "We all know you care. A lot."

"You make it sound like a bad thing..."

Fearon's tone was joking, sowing he wasn't actually offended. "Nah, it's not," I replied, chuckling lowly. I tried to force back a serious mien after, and in a attempt to get to the point, I asked, "How close are you guys now?"

I heard a groan on the other end. "Not any further from the site of the battle. We saw you missing so I called you."

Once again the flash of guilt came. I squared my shoulders and tried to suppress it. "Thanks. Appreciate it."

"We're coming," Fearon informed me. "Probably will be there in about twenty, maybe twenty five minutes."

"_Ai_," I responded, leaning against the wall of the alley. I could just see the fortress turrets from here, and stared at them intently. What secret was this giant of stone keeping from me? Whatever it was, it was definitely going to be life changing.

The only problem was how said secret would change things. I settled in for the wait, and shivered as I heard the approaching tatter of rain. Soon a downpour typical of tropical environs like Teresal Isle's was pelting down. I heard shouted curses and slapping footfalls as bounty hunters made runs for shelter in the ramshackle taverns and buildings.

Thankfully, I was sheltered under the ledge of the roof. I hugged my frame in a attempt to help ward off drops that made it to me anyway. It was times like this I disliked my bony frame. I didn't have much muscle to keep the chill from my bones.

I continued staring at the fortress through the sheets of rain. Both my expression and thoughts were just as grim and dour as the cloudy and raining sky.

**Somra's POV**

"Alright then." Cracking my knuckles, I eyed the two guards at the gates of the fortress, not bothering to hide my enthusiasm. "How're we doing this, hm?"

We had made it to Rahk's location after a messy, curse filled, miserable hike through the tropical rain. We had kept to the alleyways for the sake of roof overhangs as much as possible, but that didn't stop the mud from getting all over our feet. It hadn't completely stopped the rain from getting us wet, either. The only good advantage of the downpour was the air got cooler and easier to breathe.

After reuniting with a grim and a little guilt ridden Rahk, we resumed our journey to the fortress. It was even more intimidating up close, a behemoth of spiked battlements, cruel weaponry, and gray and reddish rock. I could imagine the red streaks as bloodstains. I wondered if they were, and personally I thought it was quite interesting.

The air didn't stay cool. The rain had stopped, and the gods damned humidity had come right back. If anything, it felt like there was a lot more moisture in the air than before. Being a little damp already, our clothes were all sticking to us a little. I didn't appreciate that I had to put up with feeling cool and damp cloth against me, but the prospect of some good fun-namely taking care of the guards-distracted me well enough.

And now, back to the present.

Fearon was gazing at the guards with his head cocked to one side. The pensive look I knew so well was in his eyes. I could see the shadows of ideas flitting through those eyes, but what they were was beyond me. Patience was something I was starting to run short on, but I knew it had only been about a minute. With a effort, I reined in my patience like a owner would a energetic dog.

Rahk was peering at the fortress from our vantage point. His gaze was higher than ours, though-it went all the way up to the bristling ramparts, and the brown red steaks running down from them like rivulets and steams of water. He looked both like he wanted to enter, but at the same time like he wanted nothing more than to run.

I cast him a concerned glance, but Fearon and I had already both tried talking to him. Our crystal specialist had remained ridiculously tight lipped, almost like a oyster, about the subject that was bothering him. We'd given up for now, and now was hardly the time to ask again.

Almost on their own accord, my eyes went back to the reddish brown rock stains. "I wonder if that's old blood?" I muttered, unconsciously voicing my earlier thought.

Rahk flinched a little, maybe imaging the ramparts he was looking at in a far more grisly state than they already looked. He didn't seem to have missed the interest in my voice. "What kind of question is that?"

I shrugged, then answered to his harshly whispered sentence. "I just find it interesting how those stains got there."

"And now you're referring to them as stains," Rahk muttered. "That's morbid."

Lehvahk spoke up for the first time in a little while, and what he said made me with he had kept his trap shut. "And this surprises you why? She is, well, Somra. And a bitch, too," he snickered.

I scowled at his snide comment, grabbed Lehvahk's arm, and twisted it. He barely retrained a pained yelp and grabbed at me frantically. I let go before the noises he made got too loud, ignoring Rahk's exasperated sigh. I was fine with that, though. Exasperation was better than depression.

"Right," Fearon muttered. "Now I've got it." He grinned at us, teeth white in the dark. "Your acting skills still sharp, Somra?"

"Sharp as ever, indeed," I lowly said back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After listening to the plan, I stood, confidently walking towards the fortress gates. As I did, I drew the cloth and mail hood back over my head.

The guards didn't seem to take kindly to my presence. They bristled in their mismatched armor and crossed the spears they held. I stopped and regarded them coldly, acting indifferent and annoyed.

As expected, my deceiving abilities worked almost instantly. The guards cast uneasy looks at me. One, a ragged bird man known as a hawktor, shuffled the feathery wings on his back and peered at me inquisitively. The other, a grime patched wallop, tried to sneer at me. His attempt was halfhearted. Obviously he was just as confused as his friend.

I spoke quietly, deliberately trying to sound as menacing as possible. "Just why are you barring my way?"

The wallop guard answered first. "The fortress is under lockdown. Intruders have been reported."

Gritting my teeth a little, I cursed luck. Clearly someone had seen enough of what happened at that bar to report us. They didn't seem to have gotten any glimpse of our features at least, for which I was grateful. It wasn't too surprising-it had been dark and smoggy, and the bar patrons had all been drunk.

Well then, if talking wasn't going to work, I'd just have to go with the more...forceful way.

Grinning at the image of the two bastard's lying unmoving and bloody at my feet, I reached back and grasped my spear in one hand. Then I brought the weapon down so that the bottom struck the cobblestones with a sharp crack. The two guards flinched. The hawktor actually fluttered back in alarm, the bird man poorly hiding his trembling.

I stood there for a bit longer, eyes demonically shadowed, hoping to unnerve them even more. It seemed to work-the hawktor finally nudged the wallop, whom had been doing a better job of hiding his nervousness. "Go and open the gates! Now! Please!" The last word was a squeak.

"Good," I crooned, letting a hiss slip into my voice. "Good boyss.."

The wallop's nerve broke and he bolted to the gates like his life depended on it-which it probably did, since my patience was fast running out. He began to fiddle with the locks, back turned to us.

"Well, go help him," I demanded.

The hawktor's eyes narrowed. He still looked nervous, but now seemed suspicious. "Why would I need to? It only takes one person..."

My temper snapped. "He's being to slow! Just go and get the damned gates open, feather brain!"

The hawktor reeled back, staring. Then he gripped two twin daggers and half spread his wings. "Ally or not..._no one_ calls me that!"

The last word became a screech. The hawktor rocketed at me, and swung his daggers. I brought my spear up and started to block his rapid strikes. The wallop turned at the noise, then growled and advanced, dropping the keys and gripping a broadsword instead.

The pelting of feet heralded Fearon as he charged at the wallop. Unable to turn my attention away, I didn't see what happened next.

The hawktor jumped, flapped once, and soared. I watched as he flipped in midair and came down again in a spinning dive, daggers out.

White arches radiated outward, tearing into my shoulder and upper arm. I cursed as they started bleeding, then even more as the hawktor landed, snapping his wings out. Rings of displaced air slammed into me, knocking me away head over heels.

I came back up, a little rattled, and very angry. I snarled at the hawktor, who screeched back. Hard as it was to believe, this scrawny thing was further ahead in combat abilities than me. Clearly Nakari hadn't picked just any brutes to keep her enemies out.

It made me wonder about her lieutenants, though. They had to have the same level of skill as this guard, if not more. Either they didn't, or they had just underestimated us when we first fought them.

I was inclined to think the latter.

The guard braced his feet on the ground and leaned forward. He shot at me in a blur, dagger moving so fast I could barely see it. As he zipped past me, I vaulted out of the way using the butt of my spear.

I landed in a crouch, trying to gather my focus. The hawktor had banked, and was now adjusting his course to come at me again. He flared his wings and stopped short before me, lashing out with the daggers. I brought my spear up, blocking the blows in a spray of sparks. Back-flipping backward, I raised the spear above my head ans began to spin it, faster and faster. Then I lowered my weapon before me, by now spinning so fast the tip was a blue blur.

The hawktor whirled in place, more white arches flying from his blades. They dissipated against my spear. As he stopped and shot at me again, I brought my spear to my side, then thrust it forward.

The blue glow left the tip and shot forward, hitting the hawktor in the side. Blood sprayed as it went right through him. The bird man let out a strangled caw, flapping wildly and clutching his side, which was bleeding profusely. I crouched and sprang into the air, bringing my spear tip down.

My enemy blocked it, although the beating of his wings was still erratic. He tried to strike again, only for me to draw my legs up and reverse my strike. The butt of my spear was rammed into the side of the guard's head with a loud crack. I let myself fall back to earth, landing in a combat crouch.

Blood running down his cheek, the guard crumpled to the ground.

**Fearon's POV**

I dashed toward the wallop. He yanked a hammer from his back and swung it. I ducked the blow, then crouched and jumped. I brought both my blades down in a cleaving motion. Faster than I would have thought, the wallop had lifted the one handed hammer and blocked the strikes. I landed lightly and dodged his punch, only for the hammer to slam into my stomach.

Somehow I avoided broken bones, but was still thrown back against the wall of the building behind me. The side of my head hit the stone, and I felt blood start to run down my cheek at the same time as the hot flash of pain from the impact. Through my slightly fluctuating vision, I made out a white wave of energy flying at me.

I rolled away. The concentrated energy slammed into the stone, pulverizing it. Vision back to normal and only feeling a slight throbbing in my head, I was back on my feet and holding my swords.

Well, if he could do that, I probably could too-even if I wasn't sure just what he had done yet.

I tightened my grip on the hilts of my swords.

The guard charged with a guttural shout. He jumped and then brought the hammer down, clearly aiming to crush me. Instead of going backward, I lunged forward, avoiding the blow and landing a series of rapid blows on the foe's stomach. He howled and grabbed at me, the wounds already bleeding. I flowed away from his hand and hammer, ducking, whirling, and finally flipping backward so I was a few feet away. He brought the hammer down again, and I deflected the strike using my crossed swords. Then I jumped into the air, kicking at the wallop's face.

He grunted and leaned back, staggering when he nearly lost his balance. My kick had missed, but it had bought me distance. Landing in a combat stance, I crossed my swords again. I tried to imagine my own energy flowing into the blades, then out. A blue glow seemed to reflect on the metal.

The wallop charged. I leaned back and then swung my swords before me. Blue lines appeared on the wallop's chest, and when they faded they revealed deep wounds. A bonus-a wave of force knocked the wallop back. Even as he crashed into the wall beside the gates, unconscious, blood started to run from the x shaped wound over his midsection.

I instinctively sheathed my blades, mind already analyzing what both me and my foe had done. I knew I had heard a technical name given to the ability, one that involved doing what I had been purposely trying to do-focusing magical energy from one's being into their weapons.

A lilting laugh came from behind me, crude but melodic. Knowing it was only Somra who could laugh that way, I turned in the direction of the noise, idly rubbing my brow.

Somra dumped the unconscious bounty hunter onto his friend with a grin.

"Made short work of him, I see," she said gleefully, nudging the pile of limp bodies with her foot.

"Yeah," I responded. I grinned slightly. "Neither of them were very intelligent, were they?"

Somra sniggered in response. When she looked at me again, though, she narrowed her eyes and seemed to peer closer. Confused, I lowered my hand from my brow.

Lehvahk and Rahk-Lehvahk looking awed, Rahk looking at the scene with a raised eyebrow-carefully walked up to us, casting glances at the fortress.

Luckily or unluckily for us, nothing seemed to be stirring. Either no one had seen or heard the commotion, or they had heard and set a trap.

I was frowning, absorbed in thinking, when Somra yelped and ran up to me. "You're bleeding," she said worriedly, brushing some of my hair away from my forehead.

Feeling a little heat tint my cheeks, I slipped my hand under hers and felt at my hairline. She withdrew her fingers, and with a slight amount of surprise I remembered that I had felt blood earlier. Only now did I find the time to actually inspect the wound best I could.

Rahk regarded me with open concern. "Takar's the doctor, but he did teach me some basics. Are you faint, having trouble seeing, or anything else unusual?"

"Nah," I responded, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. I tried not to look at the smear of red now in place on my blue green scales, instead focusing on more immediate matters. "We need to get in now."

hurriedly wiping more blood from my brow, I darted swiftly toward the gate opening lever. The entire time, I glanced up tentatively at the battlements.

They remained empty.

I reached the lever and pulled it. With surprisingly little noise, the series of heavy locks twisted and separated, and the doors eased open.

Gesturing for the others to follow, I slipped like a shadow through the doors, quickly sidling into a shadowed alcove in the wall. It looked like a statue had once been there, but had been removed-either for building material or profit. I was inclined to think the latter.

Somra joined me a instant later, Rahk close behind. Lehvahk slipped on his way, nearly falling with what would have been a fair amount of noise. I flinched, worried about giving ourselves away.

Somehow Lehvahk salvaged the situation and scurried over to us. He sheepishly smiled, only for Rahk to frown and shake his head negatively in response.

From my vantage point, I could see that we were in a large hall with a towering ceiling. The place was clearly structurally sound, but little attention had been paid to appearance. Ragged banners hung from the walls, the wood paneling they rested on faded and scratched. A patchwork of separate and mismatched rugs littered the floor, all of them threadbare. The floor beneath hem was a gray white marble that was covered in a dusting of dirt, and a few dark streaks of what I felt could very well be blood before a dark rock throne between two sets of stairs, directly at the other end of the hall from the doors. At the tops of the stairs, I could see two corridors leading inward. I could see more entrances, but the only thing the two inward leading corridors could be were the inner vaults.

Good.

"That was awesome, guys," Lehavhk whooped, managing to confine the noise to the volume level of a whisper. He slung a arm around my shoulders briefly. He couldn't maintain the position long, given that I was a few inches taller than him. But judging from a still cheerful demeanor and smile, he didn't seem to mind. "What you all did the glowy blades and all."

I frowned a little, remembering. "What was that, anyway? And how did we manage it?"

Rahk looked surprised, even a little skeptical. "You really don't know?"

"Fearon can be slow sometimes too," Somra joked. I swatted at her with no real motivation. She returned it with a light punch on my upper arm, then continued talking. I listened while at the same time trying to refrain from staring at her silver hair. In the dim mixed light of the crystals and torches, it gleamed both silvery white and with a mesmerizing fire red glint.

"I remember hearing about melee fighters channeling magic into their weapons, giving them more capabilities-like making force waves, or cutting things at a distance using blades, even materials like rock and metal."

I blinked and looked from Somra's hair to her face, noticing a confused furrow in her brow above her large eyes.

"It's called kirthorik, I believe," she said decisively. "The Afrisians named it, even though us Deltorans made it. Means invisible blade in their language."

Part of my mind stored the information. The other part was focused on her eyes.

_They're pretty...no, stop thinking that!_

"Right," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Why are you staring?"

Lehvahk sniggered, only for me to discreetly elbow him for his comment. He coughed and clutched his ribs, glaring at me while I pretended not to notice.

It sometimes amazed me how we managed to goof off even in a enemy's stronghold.

"C'mon, we need to get to searching," I said bluntly. "We're going to need to spit up." I peered around the corner, ignoring Lehvahk's suddenly pale face and stammer. "There are two hallways leading to the inner vaults. Me and Somra will search the left one, Lehvahk, Rahk, you take the other."

"Sure," Rahk agreed noncommittally.

Lehvahk stuttered, looking back and forth between us. "Haaee! No way. Don't you think it's safer to stick together-"

"It wouldn't be efficient," I said icily, cutting into Lehvahk's rant. Maybe startled by my tone, he fell silent, while both Somra and Rahk were staring. "You can handle yourselves just fine. Our priority is finding that statue."

Lehvahk put on a pouting expression. "Fine."

"Let's go, then!" Somra grinned with a glint in her eye. "Let's steal back what was stolen."

**i've been a little anime influenced, as one can probably tell. If the original series had more touches like that, that would've been interesting. **

**Pls review. It makes me sad to get no encouragement, feedback, and I especially like steady reviews :(**


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